Her Lion
by TheMightyZan
Summary: A series of one shots (in no particular order) about Inquisitor Tirnel Lavellan and her Commander, Cullen Rutherford. Prepare for awkwardness and sarcasm.
1. For Honnleath

**These aren't going to be in any specific order, because I haven't been able to write them in one, but I do hope you all enjoy!**

**Also! Any NSFW chapters will be marked at the top in an A/N so you can skip them if you want. ^.^**

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><p>Music floated out from the open doors and onto the balcony where they made a slow circle. She contemplated putting her head on his shoulder, but thought better of it since she wasn't sure she could keep up with even his measured steps if she let her mind wander. She may have done alright dancing with the Duchess, but that had only been after hours of practice and harsh language with Josephine.<p>

Instead, she tilted her head back and stared up at the man who currently led their sedate pace. He had a look of utter concentration, his mouth pulling down in a frown as his gaze rested just over her shoulder.

He was thinking too hard about it; maybe he should have practice with Josie also. Either way, she wanted him to smile again. She liked his smile almost as much as she liked the determined set of his jaw when he was studying a problem, but she got to see it less often so always seemed to want it more.

She was working on that. Well, working on it in terms of trying to find ways to get him to simply relax for more than a single moment a week.

"So… Cullen Stanton."

His eyes moved back to hers and she watched, amused, as they grew wary. "Yes…"

"Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford." She said the name as if she were tasting it, rolling the syllables around in her mouth, and doing her very best to try and not laugh. "I didn't know you're full name before."

"It's a perfectly normal name."

"Is it? Then why didn't I know it before now? It was always just Cullen, or Commander Cullen. Shouldn't it have been Commander Rutherford?" She was smiling, a little too widely she knew, but she couldn't help herself.

"Nell…" He said her name as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with it, then simply sighed and drew them into a turn.

"It's a very proper sounding name. Does it have any numbers or suffixes at the end?" She had learned about those recently, one of the millions of things Josephine had been making her study. She almost hoped it did. It would make the revelation all the better.

"No, and I'm not sure how I should take you being amused by my name."

"Well, you should take it well. It's very impressive. I'm in absolute awe of it, and the only reason that seems like amusement is because otherwise I would be so overwhelmed by it I would probably collapse into a puddle of admiration on the floor."

She grinned up at him even as he rolled his eyes at her words. It was almost enough, but she still saw how his focus went just a bit too much back to the steps of their dance.

"I wonder how it would sound if I was yelling it in a fit of passion."

That did it. His footsteps faltered, his grip tightening on her hand and waist, even as a bright red blush bloomed over his face.

It made her laugh, a too loud sound that would probably draw the attention of every courtier within a mile radius. She didn't care, it was too perfect. Surprisingly though it was almost immediately cut off by the unsuspecting pressure of his lips.

Their steps drew to a stop, postures dropping as she ran her hands up over his shoulders and his arms tightening enough around her waist to lift her almost off her toes so he didn't have to bend to reach her. The kiss was long, and lingering, and deep enough to have her mind going a bit fuzzy before he finally pulled away and let her drop back to her feet.

He made a point of carefully putting them back into the correct positions to start dancing again. Once he had taken them around in almost a complete circle, and she had begun to sort out her thoughts, he leaned in a bit so that his breath brushed over her ear as he spoke low enough to cause her to shiver. "You can yell that if I can yell, 'For Honnleath'."

He so rarely tried to be funny that it still always surprised her when he was. That was the only reason she could think of that she was the one who stumbled after his words, her mind reeling a moment before she started laughing again.

"Yes," she finally managed in a strangled hiccup. "That would be perfect."


	2. Hair and All

"I've almost got it."

"It's not going to work."

"Inquisitor, I really need you to remain positive."

"I am positive, Josie. Positive that short of my hair deciding to lay down in a shocking show of defeat you are going to have to rip all of it out before you get it to do what you seem to want it to do."

She looked up in time to see her advisor poke her tongue out in concentration a moment before dropping her hands and letting out an annoyed huff.

"It's still sticking up, isn't it." A statement made with barely contained laughter that had Josephine narrowing her eyes.

"Yes."

"Is ripping it out still an option?"

"Maybe."

She smiled at the harrowed looking woman. She had learned very early in life that her hair had no desire to conform to normal hair standards, parts of it curling and others refusing to be anything besides stick straight, and all of it tangling at the least provocation, and had quickly adapted by simply cutting it short and letting the remaining length do as it wished.

It had never bothered her, but apparently, when it came to fancy balls and palaces, it was not an appropriate look for the leader of the Inquisition.

"Josie, they already aren't going to like me because I'm an elf, do you really think my hairstyle will make a single bit of difference?"

"Yes!" Josephine stepped back and began searching through her bag of supplies. "We must be presentable, Your Worship, especially because they are close minded enough to look down on you as an elf."

She smiled at that, warmed that her friend saw it as being close minded. She opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by the sound of boots on the stairs leading up to her room. Turning to see who was coming, her smile turned to a scowl when Cullen appeared.

"Oh, well, that's just not fair."

The man stopped, his top foot on the last step, at her words, confusion crossing his face. "Sorry? What?"

She made a disgusted noise and waved a hand at him. "You would have to come in here looking like a glorified story prince while we are contemplating the positives of me being bald."

His confusion didn't lessen but he did make his way further into the room, his hands working to smooth down the front of his red jacket. "Why would you want to be bald?"

"Because otherwise Josie might just declare war on my head."

He looked over at Josephine, a tilted smile forming when he saw her pull a jar of something out with a triumphant hum. "How much has she already put in your hair?"

"Trust me when I say you don't want to know."

He gave a slight nod, and simply watched a moment before seeming to remember why he was there in the first place. "Leliana wanted me to tell you all that we needed to leave in the next half hour if we had any hopes of arriving at least fashionably late."

Josephine shot him a glare, her normally calm expression exchanged for something dark. "I'm doing the best I can."

He studied them another minute before taking Josephine's wrists and pulling her away from the abused locks she was currently trying to beat into submission. "I have a better idea."

He reached up and pulled a piece of Josephine's hair from her neatly made bun, causing it to stick up at a slight angle. The diplomat looked mortally offended at the gesture, and would have probably immediately reached to fix it if she hadn't been stopped by Cullen's movements of doing the same to his own hair, causing a few pieces near his ear to curl riotously.

"What exactly are you doing, Commander?"

"Making your life easier, Ambassador. If you cannot get her hair to do as you want, we will simply make ours match. You should probably go and let the others know to do the same."

The woman blustered a moment, something about such things simply not being done, but when all she received were two equally amused looks she threw up her hands in defeat. "Fine, fine. Who wants to be taken seriously anyway."

She turned and left, her mutters of impropriety echoing back up the stairs to them.

"She is never going to forgive you for that. I, however, think that might be the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me." Her words caused him to give a self conscious laugh, even as he turned to run his fingers through her short locks, fluffing the pieces back into their usual haphazardness.

She practically purred under his touch, her eyes falling shut a moment before he lifted her chin to give her a quick kiss. "Yes well, since I only ever aim to impress you that's fine then. Besides, I'm sure she will find something else to fuss over soon enough."

He helped her to stand, and took a moment to trace her cheek. "Before we leave and I don't get another chance, I should tell you that you look stunning this evening."

"Hair and all?"

"I've always liked your hair. It suits you perfectly."

She laughed at that, and took his hand. "I think that was a compliment."

"Most definitely." The smile he sent her with his words was warm, and it made her contemplate blushing, which of course, made her roll her eyes. "Flatterer."

When he only grinned more widely in response she pulled him after her and down the stairs.


	3. Adorable

She was studying. She was. She had promised Josephine that she would read the book about Orlesian nobility before their… guests… got to the Keep, and she never backed out of a promise.

Usually not ever.

Well, not often.

But she hadn't backed out of this promise. She was reading it. If by reading she meant being sprawled sideways in the chair in Dorian's tower nook with the book pages down on her stomach and her head leaning into the corner of the chair's back while her eyes studied the inside of her eyelids.

It wasn't really her fault though. The book was boring, and boring made her sleepy.

She could hear Dorian moving around her, and the thump of books while he re-cataloged something for probably the thousandth time.

She wondered if she could get him to read about the nobility for her, then just sum it up. He loved things like that.

Just as she was contemplating getting up the energy to open her eyes his voice floated over to her, amusement lacing his words. "I have a question for you, Nellie, if you could bring yourself to grace the waking world with your presence."

She wrinkled her nose at the name and cracked a lid to peer at him with one eye. "One day I'm going to start calling you Dori, and you're going to hate it."

He shot her a grin and came over to lean against the shelf closest to her. "The day that happens is the day you stop coming up here to hijack my chair."

She humphed and burrowed more deeply into the chair. "It's comfortable, and you would never kick me out. You love my company too much."

When he simply raised a brow in reply she opened her other eye and smiled at him. "You had a question for your illustrious leader?"

"I don't know if illustrious could be used for someone who naps in corners like a cat, but that is neither here nor there. I was curious. You seem to have recently developed a liking for… strapping young Templars."

"Jealous?"

He laughed at the question. "Hardly. I actually find it quite adorable. What I was wondering was what exactly you saw in him. He seems very stoic for, well, you."

She continued to smile as she pushed herself into more of a sitting position. "It's very simple, and believe me when I tell you this is the truth. That man has, and I use this phrase in all seriousness, the perfect butt."

She lifted her hands as she said it, making some vague motion that seemed to encapsulate grabbing the object of her statement. Dorian blinked once then let out a sharp laugh of approval. "Really? Who could tell through all that armor and fluff?"

"You can't, which is probably a good thing. It might cause a national crisis otherwise."

"I don't know if I believe you. I mean, perfect? How many have you seen to compare?"

"Well, if you are willing to show me yours so I can make a comparison list I will be happy to do so."

"Please don't." The new voice drew both their attentions, and revealed itself to belong to Solas, his face carefully neutral as he joined them in the sun drenched alcove. "At least not while I'm here."

Dorian smirked at him and turned to pull a book from the shelf he was propped against. "You probably couldn't handle it anyway. It would be disastrous for you both, seeing the glory of true perfection and never being able to obtain it."

Solas rolled his eyes even as he turned to the inquisitor. "Tirnel, I thought you might have been having trouble keeping attention with your current reading objective so I brought something to distract you." He held out an old scroll, and her smile widened as she took it and recognized the elvish script.

Oh yes, this was much better. Solas always found interesting things about their people for her to learn. "Ma serannas."

His expression was friendly enough, but she could see the calculation that so often lurked behind the easy facade and prepared herself for the inevitable question that was going to follow. "I do have a question, lethallan. You are constantly telling me how the people need help and guidance, and you have stated on more than one occasion that you hoped that they might one day reclaim their glory. Where does a human lover factor into that?"

She scowled a bit at the question, noting that Dorian had seemed to take great interest in how she might answer. Her feelings for Cullen were… complicated, and too new to be banded about to anyone other than who they were directed at. Not to mention that it was, frankly, none of their business.

She settled for working the scowl away and brandishing the hand not holding the scroll in a dismissive wave. "I may very well die trying to close that breach. I don't think anyone can blame me for enjoying someone who can pick me up like I weigh no more than this scroll."

"And if you do survive?"

She huffed out a breath and straightened in the chair, catching the book at the last moment as it tumbled into her lap. "I can still work for improving my people's lot without making dozens of Elven babies. Someone else can have that job."

They stared at each other a moment before Solas gave a thoughtful nod. "I see what you mean. I was simply curious."

He stepped backwards and offered a slight bow before turning away, his words winging back at her from over his shoulder. "Come and see me when you finish reading that. I'm sure you will have questions."

Dorian and she sat in silence a moment before his soft laughter broke through the quiet air. "Ooo, I see. Our Nellie is feeling a bit more than just lust after a delicious posterior."

"Shut up, Dorian."

"That really is adorable."

She threw the book at him, drawing a laugh from herself as he stumbled to move out of its path. "So, do I get to see yours now?"

He chuckled even as he leaned over to pick up the abused volume. "Would your lion come after me for letting you?"

She looked towards the ceiling, a finger coming up to tap at her chin. "Maybe. It would be interesting to find out."

"Hmm, perhaps later than."


	4. For Luck

"What about you?"

The question was met with silence, her face turning away because she didn't want to give voice to the answer that they both knew. It wasn't hard to agree to sacrifice herself for the others. It was the right thing to do, and as a future Keeper she knew the importance of sacrifice for the many. That didn't mean, however, that she really wanted to talk about it.

"Perhaps you will surprise it… find a way."

She gave a brief, silent laugh at that and looked back at him. "Maybe."

She herded the others that were staying with her to the door, murmuring promises that she would make sure they were as far away as possible before she fired the trebuchet.

"Herald." His voice stopped her before she could follow them outside, and she turned to face him again, curiosity writing itself over her expression.

"You need to make sure you keep its attention until we are above the tree line."

She nodded, her mind already on what was to come.

"If we are to have a chance- if you are to have a chance- make sure that thing hears you."

She nodded again, but managed this time to focus long enough to see his face fall. She did want to go out this way, with someone already mourning her lose when it hadn't even come yet.

"Commander."

It was his turn to look curious, his body half turned away from her, and his gaze not meeting her own.

"Yes?"

She trotted the short distance between them, her hands coming up to clutch at the fur of his over tunic. She didn't give him a chance to think, didn't give herself a chance for it either before she raised to her toes and pressed her lips to his.

It was chaste by even the most innocent of standards, but he jerked at the contact. In the seconds that it lasted it was only in the last few that she felt his hands come up to her arms and tighten.

She pulled back even as he leaned into her, a smile breaking over her face. "For luck. Or because I refuse to die without a kiss from a handsome man. Either way you want to look at it."

He stared wide eyed at her, his hands flexing into her flesh a moment before they fell away. "For luck than."

She nodded and stepped away from him, enjoying the way his cheeks had been burnished to a dark red. "See you on the other side." Whether she meant in this life or the next was left up for interpretation, and she hurried out of the Chantry without another word.

* * *

><p>Later, much later, after the explosion of fire, and Corypheus, and her desperate hike through the snow, she was dimly aware of being scooped up, words of thanks echoing around her.<p>

Whatever she was being held against was hard, metal she assumed, and ice cold against her side, but her head was pillowed against warm, ticklish fur, so she couldn't complain. Not that she had the energy for it even if she had wanted to.

She opened bleary eyes enough to see a haze of red at her side, and Cassandra's concerned face. Following the sound of a voice issuing orders she realized that she was being held by Cullen, his face set in tense lines as he walked with her towards the fires of the camp.

She couldn't help the slightly delirious, and certainly goofy smile that stretched her face, even as she heard a croak of a laugh slip from her throat.

"Seems it was lucky after all." The words were hoarse and half mumbled, but they caught the Commander's attention, and he glanced down at her long enough to assess the cuts she could feel on her face.

"So it was."

She smiled again, her head falling more heavily onto his chest before the darkness reclaimed her.


	5. It's Definitely Possible

She enjoyed sitting. Not as much as she enjoyed laying, but it was the next best thing, and when there wasn't convenient sprawling space it simply had to do.

She justified it with the fact that she spent most of her time traipsing around two different countries fixing problems for people.

And trying to find and kill Corypheus, couldn't forget that.

But back to the present, she enjoyed being off her feet, which she assumed was the reason that she was perched cross legged on a table in the corner of her commander's office, watching him address his soldiers.

She was often lurking in the corners of places, it was something that the inquisition as a whole had seemed to accept, or so she guessed since they had long since stopped asking her what she was doing or if she needed anything.

Her favorite places were Dorian's chair and Solas' couch, but neither had the added advantage of watching Cullen work so hard table it was.

Maybe she could talk him into putting some other, more comfortable, furniture around.

She refocused her attention as the soldiers began filing out, leaving the two of them in the sudden silence of a too large space. The commander was leaned over his desk reading a report, content it seemed to let her linger while he worked.

She smiled at the thought. Not that anyone had ever actually told her to leave before.

So she watched him and the way he rubbed idly at his neck, his fingers working away some invisible tension before moving to smooth back the strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead.

Varric called him Curly, she wondered what he did to it to make it look so straight, and why he even bothered. Actually, she knew why he bothered. Because the man couldn't walk five feet out his door without looking presentable. Maybe it was a Templar thing.

That occupied her thoughts enough to distract her from why she had originally sought out his room, and so they shared the silence for awhile, her lids drooping as she leaned back against the wall behind her. She had wanted to talk to him. About several things, but the longer they sat in the quiet the harder it seemed for her to request his attention.

She should have asked for it immediately, but, well, distractions and all.

It wasn't until he made to leave the room that she perked up, afraid that he would be lost forever to the whims of his troops.

"Commander! You're not going anywhere important are you?"

He glanced back at her, a brow raised as he lifted the stack of papers he held in his hand. "Not terribly, I just needed to drop off some reports to Leliana."

She nodded and hopped down from her perch. "Care if I join you? I was hoping to talk with you. In private. About… things."

"Private?" The brow stayed raised but he did glance back around the empty room a moment, his lips lifting into a slight smile.

"Well, private as in no one will come barging in without notice."

"Why would… um," he looked back to her before shaking his head a bit. "Of course. This shouldn't take long anyway."

They made quick work of hunting down the Spymaster and afterwards she lead him to one of the lesser frequented battlements. She wasn't entirely sure that they wouldn't be interrupted, but at least it was less likely, and the cold wind that blew around them would do well in keeping their conversation private.

She missed when he said something, her thoughts on the specifics of what the private conversation would actually entail. She stared at the back of his head a moment since he was walking a few steps in front of her, searching her brain for any inkling of what he had been talking about, something about a nice day, maybe.

"What?"

He looked back to her, his hand back up at his neck, and he opened his mouth to speak then seemed to think better of it. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

She nearly laughed at the awkwardness of it. Talking to someone should never be this hard. "Well, it definitely wasn't the weather."

He blushed at the statement, a faint pink that tinted the skin just under his eyes and made her smile. "No, I didn't think that was what it was about."

She went to lean against one of the crumbling walls, her gaze moving off to the mountains in the distance. "We've been doing this… this thing. Dance. Whatever. For awhile now, and I care for you but…" She trailed off, aware that she was probably just a pink as he had been, which made her disgusted with herself.

"What's wrong?

The question was asked quietly and she was surprised to see that he had moved closer to her, his head tilted expectantly for her answer and she felt her blush deepen.

Stupid handsome man in armor with his defined jaw and perfect hair. It was ridiculous. Creators forbid Dorian or Sera ever caught wind of how she was acting, they would never let her live it down.

Pulling herself together with that thought she straightened her shoulders and lifted a hand to emphasize her point. "Cullen, look, I'm a mage and you're a Templar, or, well, you were. I know you left the order but that doesn't mean… I just need to know if I'm being colossally stupid or if there was even a remote chance that you could think of me as anything but a mage."

"I can. I mean- I mean I do!" His reply was swift, almost tumbling out of his mouth as he took a hesitant step towards her. "Think of you," he continued on almost lamely. "I also think about what I might say in this sort of situation."

She tilted him a smile at that, calmer after seeing him stumble over himself. "Waiting on me to make the first move? I thought I did that back when Haven was sacked."

He let out a breathless laugh at the reminder of the kiss she had foisted on him before running off to give them time to escape. "No, or yes I suppose, depending on how you look at it."

He took another, measured, step closer and she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact with him. She could almost feel the heat coming off of him, the ends of the feathers that hung down his chest almost, but not quite, brushing her front. "You're the Inquisitor, and we are in the middle of a war… It didn't seem like something that was possible for me to ever have a chance of following through with."

She licked her lips a bit self consciously at his almost predatory movements, and felt her stomach clench when his gaze dropped to follow the movement of her tongue. "Well," she started then had to stop and clear her throat when she felt his hands land lightly on her hips. He must have thought about this quit a bit because he was doing a marvelous job. "It definitely seems possible to me."

She was surprised to see him smirk as his face lowered to hers. "I think you're right."

She slid her eyes closed, her hands coming to rest on his arms, as she waited for their lips to connect.

The word "Commander" was like an explosion going off.

They broke apart like two guilty children found breaking into the sweets jar and she watched as he expelled a harsh breath, his head dropping a moment, before he turned to the messenger that had appeared near them.

He ground out a 'what', but she wasn't really paying attention, her thoughts chaotic as she struggled to pull herself back together.

She let out a sigh of her own. Work, always work. It never ended. Stupid Corypheus and his stupid need to be stopped, and the Inquisition's stupid need to curry favor with and protect everyone.

She heard the nearest door close again, and opened her mouth to let him know that they could always make time later but she was abruptly cut off by his hands fisting into her hair and his lips capturing hers.

It took her by surprise, not just the suddenness of it but also the desperation behind it. He kissed her as if he was afraid he might be ripped away at any moment, his tongue taking advantage of her still gaping mouth to slid in and over her own.

It was bruising, and consuming, and _**wonderful**_.

She had only just wrapped her head around it, her thoughts screaming to know where this had been hiding, when he pulled away, his words breathless as he first stuttered an apology and then told her how nice it had been.

The contrast made her laugh, a slightly wild sound that was pulled from her mouth and lost into the wind that still whipped around them.

"That was exactly what I was hoping for. I think… It was all sort of a blur."

He flashed her a smile as he moved his hands from her head to her waist and wasted no time in lifting her to sit on the battlement wall, which earned him a squeak of surprise. He gave a laugh of his own and stepped between her legs. "Than let me show you again so you can be sure."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her smile widening to match his. "I think that is an excellent plan."


	6. It will be Alright

"Cullen!"

His name was a sharp crack against the sounds of the practice fighting around him. He looked up from the men in front of him just in time to see the Inquisitor rushing towards him, Leliana and Josephine close behind.

He started to reply but stopped as she all but crashed into him, her fingers curling ineffectually into the armor on his arms. He lifted his hands to her shoulders to steady her, his gaze moving to the other advisors and the twin looks of worry they wore.

"What's wrong?"

"I need you to send soldiers, you're best soldiers. As many as you can."

He looked back down at the elven woman, noting the way her skin seemed drawn around her face, her freckles standing out in sharp contrast to the worrisome pallor of her skin. She shifted, seemingly unable to stay still, her eyes darting from him to the soldiers that had all stopped fighting when she ran up. It was all wrong. She was the type who never seemed to put energy into anything, even when fighting she cast her spells and wielded her staff as if it was all a lazy afterthought that she only put as much effort into as was absolutely needed.

Seeing her, of all people, so on edge made worry settle in his gut. "Tell me what's happened."

"There isn't time for-" He cut off her words with a shake of his head and a squeeze of his hands. "Nell, tell me what's happened."

She shot a look back to Leliana who stepped forward and offered him a folded letter. He lifted a hand to take it even as Leliana spoke. "It seems that the Inquisitor's clan has come under several attacks recently. They are requesting aid since they don't know how much longer they will be able to hold out on their own."

She continued, stating something about needing to see who was behind the attacks, while he skimmed the letter himself. It wasn't until Nell shouted that he returned his focus to what was being said.

"I'm not going to leave them to fend for themselves while your people slink around back allies! It's not important who's doing it."

"Of course it's important, Inquisitor. We can't be sure that the attacks will stop unless we know who is behind them."

He felt Nell practically vibrate under his hand, and tightened his grip automatically. He watched as she opened her mouth to speak, seemed to check herself, and then tried again. "You can look for that answer to your heart's content after we send them immediate help."

She turned back to face him, her words turning slightly desperate again. "Can you send soldiers?"

"Of course. I'll send out a contingent today."

He watched as her shoulders slumped in relief though her expression did not clear. "Thank you."

He started to step away from her, fully intending to immediately follow through with his word, but her worried frown stopped him. He thought briefly about the fact that his fellow advisors were still watching them, along with a large part of Skyhold's recruits, but they seemed unimportant in the face of seeing her look so lost.

So he didn't hesitate before rubbing a thumb over the furrow between her eyes, and lowering his own brow to hers. "It will be alright."

She gave a jerky nod, her forehead bumping against his with the movement. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath before speaking again. "I hope so."

It was probably the best he would get until the whole matter was resolved, so he skimmed his lips over her cheek and turned away to summon his men.


	7. Nightmares

She woke because of the shuddering.

It was a minor thing, especially because he was curled at the other end of the bed and tucked so much into himself that she would need to stretch out her arm to reach him, but it was enough. Enough to have her blinking still drowsy eyes before turning, almost without thinking, to reach out to his far away form.

His back was cold to her touch, and he flinched away from her with a low groan and half formed words that ended on almost sobs.

It broke her heart to hear them.

She didn't let that deter her, instead she set about rousing herself enough to crawl across the empty space between them and wrap her arms around his almost thrashing form. He fought against her, some unseen demon telling him that her presence was wrong, but she kept her grip and murmured wordless sounds of soothing into his ear.

Eventually he seemed to snap awake, his back going ramrod straight against her front, and she waited for the inevitable apologies. When they came, she shushed him, giving voice to reminders that she loved him, that he was not alone, that this too would pass into nothing but distant memory.

He didn't believe her, he never did, and when he offered to move to his own room she pulled him to face her and wrapped her top leg around his waist.

He would not face this alone.

He would not wake up to nothing but dark words and an empty room.

Eventually he drifted back to sleep, her hand making lazy circles over his back, and her lips moving slowly over his neck as she told some nonsense story of when she was small.

When she felt his breath even out she pulled him tighter, promises falling from her lips that were lost to the empty air.

She would watch over him.

She would protect him.

If she could take this pain and terror away she would.

With those thoughts on her mind, she finally let herself drift to sleep.


	8. Time Together

"Would you care for a game?"

He waited as she turned from where she had been watching Dorian walk away, some joke about such things spoken laughingly between them, to bring her attention back to him. She glanced from him to the chess board, her mouth twisting with uncertainty.

"I don't know how."

"I wouldn't mind showing you."

She studied the pieces another moment before giving a single, determined nod and moving to the seat the Tevinter mage had just vacated. She curled into it, her feet tucking under her as she settled in. She tilted her head over the board, presenting him with the chaotic auburn of her hair, and reached up curious fingers to pick up various pieces and turn them in her grip. After a few moments she shot her violet gaze to him from under her lashes and grinned expectantly.

"So?"

He had to clear his throat. He was pretty sure he had been staring, somewhat fascinated by the way her hair rioted around her face, the different pieces seeming to pick random directions to grow.

Like it couldn't be bothered to do what was expected of it. It suited her.

He cleared his throat again, realizing that he still hadn't answered her. "Yes right."

He set about righting his pieces, telling her their names as he did so so that she could do the same with hers. They started slowly, long drawn out pauses interrupting their game as she tried to remember what each thing did.

"Do you play often," she asked as she hovered her hand between two pieces.

"I use to play all the time against my sister when I was a child. She always got this smug look on her face when she won."

He saw her lips twitch at the statement and couldn't help an answering grin. "Which was all the time of course. My brother and I practiced for weeks…" He trailed off in thought a moment before continuing, laughter lacing his voice. "The look on her face the day I beat her was priceless."

She shared his smile and moved one of her knights, a random move that he was sure had more to do with not knowing what else to do and less to do with any actual plan. "Do you have just the two siblings?"

"No, I have another sister as well. All older. Between being a Templar and the Inquisition, however, I haven't seen them in years. What of yourself?" He wasn't sure why he asked, so he focused his attention on the board and his move instead of watching her face.

"I have a little brother. I haven't seen him in years either."

"Why not?"

She seemed to think the question over, if the long pause was any indication, and he had began to wonder if he shouldn't have asked when her voice broke through his thoughts. "I was sent to my clan to be trained as their First when I was 15. We don't travel close enough to each other for visits, but I do try to write him when I can. Leliana's messengers make it easier to find him."

She moved another piece and looked up to him. "Is that right? Can I do that?"

He nodded in response. He wanted to ask more about her clan, about the Dalish, about her, but he recognized the change in subject and let the questions die on his tongue.

They lapsed into silence for awhile, the sounds of others moving around the garden drifting around them.

"You know, Cullen, we never spend time together, not outside of working, not like I do with the others. Why is that?"

He knew the reason, but it wasn't something he wanted to tell her.

He didn't trust himself around her. He was too distracted by her, too easily ruffled by her, usually amused, smile.

And he had the oddest fascination with wanting to touch her, not that he ever did. No, he never once grabbed her as she had him in those last moments at Haven. He never once followed through with his thoughts of sliding his hands around her waist and tugging her in so that he could set his teeth to her ear to see what sort of sounds it would cause her to make.

"Cullen?"

He blinked, desperately groping for his lost train of thought.

He should not be thinking such things anyway. It wasn't appropriate.

It also wasn't appropriate to remember that her lips had been soft and slightly chapped, and they had been attached to his for far to short a time.

"Sorry, I was thinking of my next move. I don't know why that is, My Lady. It is nice to talk about something other than war for a while though."

"It is, and you can call me Nell you know. Everyone else does."

"Solas calls you Tirnel."

She shrugged in response to that, her lips quirking a bit. "Solas is a bit more formal about those kind of things. According to him, it's a strong name and I should wear it proudly."

When he raised a brow in question, her smile widened. "I told him Nell was quicker to say. He just rolled his eyes at me."

He returned her smile and took his turn. "Either way, I don't think it would be right for me to address you so informally."

"Oh, I wish you would."

His attention had drifted to the game, but it shot back to her at the statement. Seeing his reaction she waved a hand as if brushing the words away. "Would it help if we spent more time together? I think I would like more practice learning this game."

"I would like that." He hadn't actually meant to agree, but the words were out before he could change his mind.

"So would I."

He stared at her a moment before letting out a soft laugh. "You said that already."

There was a strange moment, their eyes locked over the game board, and the air tight with… something, before he gave a shake of his head and looked back down. "We should finish. I-I think it's my turn."

"So, does that mean you will call me by my name?"

He couldn't help the tilted grin he shot her, amused at how expectant she looked. "Maybe."

From her nod, it seemed to be enough.


	9. Attraction

"I get to work with you?"

The question was blurted, almost against her will, but she couldn't help the smile that blossomed with it.

"I, uh- yes?"

She wasn't sure if the Commander's response was a question or not, but her smile widened at it none the less.

"Oh, good. I've always enjoyed getting to spend time with handsome men in armor."

She watched as the blonde man blushed, his eyes searching out a spot on the wall and his hand coming up to rub at his neck. She thought she caught a smile of his own as he gave a slight cough and groped for words.

"You flatter me, My Lady."

Oh, I'd like to do much more than flatter you, she thought, amused at her own turn of thoughts. It had been a long time since she had found anyone attractive. "I look forward to the chance to flatter you even more, Commander Cullen."

His blush darkened, and he let out a low laugh as he looked back to her for a moment. It seemed as if he wanted to say something else, but Cassandra's voice, laced with an exasperation that seemed constant since Nell had met her, cut off any reply he might have had.

"If you don't mind, Herald. There are other introduction to be made."

"Of course," she replied automatically, her smile never lessening. She shifted her attention as the Seeker made introductions to the Spymaster and Ambassador, but her mind stayed on the red and gold man that stood directly before her.

Oh yes, she was looking forward to getting to know him better.


	10. Distraction

She hated being in the war room. Being there meant that she was having to listen to reports, and help decide on who to let send people where. All the while knowing that anytime something messed up it would be her fault because she was the one who told the others what to do.

She had been groomed to lead a clan, know the old tales, find the lost artifacts. The Inquisition was… bigger. Like she was responsible for 100 clans, and all of them just went along with her opinion.

It was terrifying.

So she hated the war room, and preferred when she was out in the field because then she could deal with small problems, one on one, and that was much easier to handle.

Too bad that she couldn't be there now.

She bit at the nails of her thumb and forefinger as she studied one of the requests for assistance, only half listening as the others discussed how they would each try to handle the situation. The Teryn of Highever wanted representation for, well, something they were doing to honor the late Divine. She would probably let Cullen send an honor guard. There was no point in listening to the other suggestions.

Thinking to cut off the discussion she glanced up, and her mind went abruptly blank as her gaze landed on her Commander's face.

His eyes were fixed on her mouth and the hand that played there.

It made her smile, a slow grin around her fingers that had Cullen looking up at her and then quickly away.

She heard Josephine saying his name, a question after he hadn't responded to her before, and she had to hold back a laugh as he stuttered a reply.

Well, maybe she had been wrong. Maybe the war room wasn't too terrible after all.


	11. Want

"What are you writing?"

She had entered the tower office to find the Commander bent over his desk, his hand moving a quill quickly over a piece of parchment. The question earned her a brief look before he focused back down, his forehead coming to rest in his free hand.

"A letter to my sister, I told her I would write a longer one when I had the time."

"Oh." She skirted the edge of the desk and moved behind him, leaning a bit in order to wrap her arms around his shoulders and peer over at the distinctly crisp words that she saw every day in his reports. "What are you writing about?"

"Nothing of consequence. I am mainly just telling her that everything is fine."

She rested her chin into the crook of his neck, her eyes skimming over the first few, decidedly boring, lines. "Are you going to write about me?"

She felt rather than heard his rumble of laughter at the question before he tilted his head a bit in order to rub the side of her face with his. "She wants me to. I'm not sure if I should."

"Why?"

"You, My Lady, are not so simple a topic as to condense you into a few sentences."

She beamed at nothing in particular at the statement. "Is that a good or bad thing?"

He set the quill down and turned at the waist to snatch her and draw her into his lap, settling her into as comfortable a position as was possible with being squeezed between the desk edge and his armor. His eyes were warm as he nuzzled into her neck. "A very good thing."

They didn't speak for several minutes after that, lost as they were in the warm cocoon of each other. When her knee banged into the desk edge, however, Cullen pulled back and smoothed a soothing hand over the smarting skin.

"What would you want me to tell her? Since it concerns you."

Since she was annoyed at the interruption of their interlude, it took a bit before she could reply to him, a tilted grin appearing as she did so. "That I am amazing, and awesome, and wonderful in bed, and you would be absolutely lost without me."

He chuckled at her answer and let his hand drift higher on her leg. "That seems to cover it all. I will keep the suggestion in mind."

He touched his lips to hers, his fingers moving up to caress her hips. She let him have his way for awhile, his hands sliding over suddenly annoying clothes as his mouth played over hers.

It took far more willpower than she thought she had to pull back and look at him.

"Cullen, do you think you could finish your letter later, and take a break with me? Upstairs? In your bed?"

Or on the floor beside it, or right here in the chair.

He smiled at her, obviously amused at her turn of thoughts, though his eyes were filled with anything but humor.

Want seemed more likely.

"Give me a moment to lock the doors, and then I'm yours."


	12. Assumptions

"What were you thinking? Turning loose mages with no over-site, the veil is torn open!"

The question was shot at her as she and Dorian joined Cassandra and the Advisors, and she couldn't help the frown that tugged at her face upon hearing the words. "Mages deserve freedom." She stated it simply and waited for the argument that she was sure would come.

Cullen didn't disappoint.

"Freedom has nothing to do with this. Without the veil to help there is nothing that is stopping the mages from being overrun by demons."

"Like I have been? Or Solas? Or Vivienne, or any of the dozens of mages that are already here?"

He gave a sigh and when he spoke again his voice was placating. "You're being idealistic if you think that only good can come of this."

She wanted to punch him. For the first time since she had met him weeks ago she wanted to bloody his lip instead of kiss it, which was surprisingly refreshing after the last few days.

She was so preoccupied with it that she almost missed when he turned to Cassandra and asked her why she had let such a thing happen. While she appreciated that the Seeker seemed to approve of her actions, or, well, not completely condemn them, she was annoyed that he would even say such a thing.

She stepped forward and shoved a finger into the metal of his chest, earning a surprised glance. "She couldn't have stopped me anyway. You all tell me to make decisions, tell me to do what I think is right, but then you're going to turn around and condemn my choices?" She stepped back, not waiting for an answer. "The rebel mages will be our allies and equal partners. If you don't like it, leave. Or find someone else to do your grunt work."

She turned to leave and almost ran smack into Vivienne, who had come out of her corner at all the shouting.

"You know, we could simply start to train more Templars. That would handle any problems that arise."

"We are not training more Templars," she ground out, her anger increasing with the first enchanter's words. "Believe it or not, mages have been able to go their whole lives without turning into abominations without Templar oppression."

"How would you know, my dear? The Dalish only allow three mages per clan, do they not? What happens to the others?"

"Don't presume to know anything about my clan!" She shouted the words, her temper lost to the differing opinions around her, all willing to condemn before giving a chance. "You know nothing about them. There are ass Dalish just as there are ass Shemlen. I came from a clan with 6 mages. 6 out of 30. Not a single one was sent to fend for themselves. I wasn't even given to another clan as their First until I was 15, years after my magic manifested. Even my clan now has more than just the three. You know nothing."

She felt a hand close over her arm and realized that she was shaking, her words still echoing through the high ceilings above them. She looked back to see Dorian, understanding on his face. He didn't even bother saying anything to the others, simply slid his hand over her neck and wrapped his arm around her shoulders before steering her out of the Chantry. "I need your help finding a place to put my things. I will need my own bed if I am to be staying."

"You're staying?" She managed to keep her voice level as she asked the question, her hopes lifting at the thought.

"Well, it seems you could use the backup, and I am more than willing to stand behind you, the view is lovely."

She smiled at the statement and started to reply when there was a discreet cough behind them. They both turned to see Cullen standing at a respectful distance from them, his hands locked at the small of his back. "Herald, if I might speak with you privately a moment."

She scowled, but Dorian bowed and stepped away from her. "I have no problems sharing her." He glanced down at her face and offered a reassuring smile. "Come and find me when you have the time, I'll be around."

She stared at the ex-Templar as Dorian disappeared down the path, unsure if she really wanted to hear what he had to say, but when he motioned towards the open door of a nearby house she sighed and proceeded him through the doorway.

She waited until he had closed the door with a soft click before speaking, her voice laced with the returning remnants of her anger. "Are we going to have a problem, Commander?"

She saw him sigh, his shoulders lifting and falling before he turned to face her. "No. No, of course not. I simply wanted to apologize. The things I said… they were unworthy of me. I didn't mean to make it seem as if I had a problem with the mages being here. I don't. I do not doubt that they are here to help, but they are not all like you, they are not all so strong. I am simply concerned. I want to make sure that everyone is safe, the mages included. Templars can abuse their power, but they can also keep order when others might lash out."

She felt her anger leave her as he spoke. It left her feeling empty and slightly cold. Of course he would feel that way, he knew nothing else.

"They cannot prove themselves, Commander, if they are never given the chance."

He nodded and looked out the window. "I understand that, but we cannot also assume that none will fall."

It was probably the best she would get. "Of course they will, but do you think that the others would simply let them run rampant. Let them govern themselves. Give them the chance. If it all goes to shit you can yell at me about it later."

He smiled, sort of, in reply, the scarred side of his lip tilting up before he looked back over to her and offered a slight bow. "I will defer to your judgement. You have yet to steer us wrong."

She couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out at that. "Give it time, Commander. I have not yet begun to show you all how very much I am capable of messing up."

He simply nodded and reached over to open the door again. "I will keep that in mind. I did have a request however."

"Oh?"

"I need to go help the mages settle in. I was hoping you would join me. It might help things go a bit more smoothly."

She paused before stepping through the door, the enjoyment of his nearness reinstating itself. "I would enjoy anything that allowed me more time with you, and making sure that you don't get set on fire."

"Yes," he mumbled, pleased embarrassment clear on his face. "It should be interesting to say the least."


	13. Damn It

Damn it.

Damn it.

She was in love with him.

Every stupid, perfect, blonde, human piece of him.

This wasn't what was supposed to happen.

She should have run screaming in the opposite direction the first moment she met him, but no. No, she had to flirt with him, and talk to him, and kiss him, and… and she was an idiot.

She was also staring at him while he stared back, confused, some question that he had asked her lost between them.

The battle at Adamant was over, both sides were tending their wounded, and she had wanted her Commander to be part of the talks with the Wardens about what would be expected of them since they had agreed to join the Inquisition. So she had come to find him, and found him she had.

His armor was smeared with blood and Creators only knew what else, and his face was a strangely streaked grey from soot, and when he had turned to look at her, a relieved smile on his face, her mind had cleared of all helpful information and simply tumbled over the realization that she was, quite desperately, in love with him.

She couldn't think about it, not now. Not when so much else was going on. Not when she didn't have the option of killing him if he didn't feel the same.

It wouldn't be quick or easy to replace the Commander of the Inquisition armies.

It would be impossible to fill the gigantic space he had apparently taken up in her feelings.

So she shoved it down, and told him that he was needed for talks.

She didn't pay attention during the meeting with the Wardens either. Her mind kept creeping back to the man at her side, and the way that he was still able to be a warm presence even with the space and armor between them.

She needed to get away from him. She needed to think.

She couldn't go back to the suddenly too small seeming Skyhold without a plan.

So she made the decision to head back into the Western Approach and tie up some loose ends that had been left before the siege. Whoever she took with her would be annoyed that it would be a few more weeks before they got a break from fighting and traveling, but they would cope.

And she would promise them a longer break before making them trek out again.

She hunted down Leliana and told her what she would be doing. She told her she wanted to head out that night, and that she needed her spymaster to pass the information on to all relevant parties.

If Leliana had raised a brow at the sudden change in plans she had at least asked no questions about it, to which she was eternally grateful.

She had managed to repack a travel bag, and convinced Bull, Cole, and Dorian to do the same before he found her rolling up her bedroll in her tent

She should have known he would. Of course he would after being told her plans.

She had done well in giving him one word answers and turning towards the tent flap before he had simply placed himself in front of her.

He told her to be safe, that he hoped she would be able to return to Skyhold soon, that his prayers would be with her, and she had been unable to do anything other than settle her forehead onto his chest, words aching at the end of her tongue that she was too terrified to let slip.

They stood like that a long time, his hands making random patterns on her arms before she pulled back and looked at him.

His tilted smile didn't help anything so she raised onto her toes enough to kiss his chin and then slipped past him.

She was in love with him.

Too bad she wasn't really even sure what that meant.


	14. Afraid

"Too soon. Too much. You had wanted it to be a simple diversion between friends, but it grew. You're afraid to look at it, it's too impractical, impossible, important."

She looked back to see Cole standing behind her, the moonlight that reflected off the orange sands a soft light around his too pale frame. "Reading my thoughts, da'mi?"

"They are very loud."

She patted the ground at her side and waited until he had settled there before looking off again. He wasn't wrong, it had been nearly three weeks since her sudden revelation of feelings and she still wasn't sure what to do with them. She supposed she could sit on them forever, but the problem was she missed him. She wanted to see his face, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to keep them buried when they were staring her in the eye.

"I'm sorry, Cole. I didn't mean to bother you with my thoughts."

He shrugged, his fingers picking idly at a random patch of desert grass. "I don't sleep, I have plenty of time to listen. You need sleep, but it's hard. You see his face and you hate yourself that you are a coward. That is why you poke fun at the rest of us. It keeps your mind off things."

"Have I been insufferable?"

He shook his head and smiled slightly. "No, even the others can tell that you are distracting yourself."

She sighed and folded her arms over her drawn up knees before resting her chin on the top of them. "I haven't… I don't…. I don't know."

"You're afraid. Should I cut it off? Should I pull back? He has been through too much. What if I'm asking for too much?" He looked back over to her. "You're afraid," he repeated. "Now you have something to lose."

She stared at him a moment before letting out a humorless laugh. "Yeah."

"How strange."

"What?"

"He is afraid too, but his fear makes him stronger. This is a good fear. Not like the bad times, the questions that hurt, the lives that were lost. Those fears were terrible, twisted. This fear is bright, brilliant, beautiful because it's you. You're fear makes you want to run away, his fear makes him want to stay."

She looked out over the expanse of desert, his words echoing in her head. Finally, she put her forehead to her knees and rocked it back and forth in the semblance of a shake.

"Did I help?"

She smiled into the dark space between her chest and legs before looking up at him again. "Yes, da'mi, you helped."

His smile was hesitant but brilliant, another small happiness to tuck away within himself. "Good."


	15. Stuck

**Slightly NSFW chapter. I tried to make it cute though! ^.^**

* * *

><p>It was already dusk by the time they made their way through the gates of Skyhold. Few people other than the guards on duty were still around, most having disappeared to dinner, and she didn't bother ringing the bell that announced their arrival since she didn't want to pull anyone from their meal.<p>

They dropped their mounts off in the stable, and she shared a brief word with Blackwall before following the others through the kitchen and into the main keep where she wasted no time in making her way to her quarters, plans of a bath to wash away the weeks' worth of sand and sleep forefront in her mind.

She had never bothered with having someone help her with bathing, though Josephine had offered, and so she set the heating rune at the bottom of the metal tub and then filled it with ice, moving off to wait for the rune to melt and heat the water.

She ate a slice of bread and cheese she had lifted from the kitchen on her way in as she waited, her mind wandering to other matters. She needed to talk to Leliana about some missives she had found, and Josephine was probably livid at her for not responding to her letters about the Winter Palace.

It would all wait till in the morning though.

She wanted one night of not thinking about the work that needed to be done.

Liking that idea she went to check the bath water and, finding it warm enough, she stripped and slid in, her muscles tensing against the heat before melting in relief.

Yes. This. She needed this.

She scrubbed at sand burned skin and dunked her head a few times before relaxing back, her eyes closing in pleasure.

She also needed to talk to Cullen.

That thought had her popping open her eyes.

That could wait till tomorrow also. It could. It wasn't like she needed to see him tonight, he would still be there after a good night's rest.

It made sense, which was why she was surprised at herself when she found she had climbed from the tub and started toweling herself off.

It wasn't like he was going anywhere.

Another fine point that still didn't seem to stop her from pulling on her under armor and trying to finger comb her hair into some kind of order.

He was probably busy.

Though apparently she didn't mind bothering him since she was already headed down the stairs from her rooms and into the main hall.

When she made it to Solas' study she stopped, eyes going to the new, still wet, piece of his mural. He had told her that he was painting her story, but it still amazed her to see the skill he put into it.

"Do you like it?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin at the voice, and whirled to find Solas behind her, book in hand and amusement on his face.

"Solas. Sorry. Yes. I like it very much."

He moved to stand beside her, his gaze going to his work. He stared at it a moment before giving a nod, as if approving of what he saw, and tilting his head back towards her.

"It is good to see you back in one piece, lethallan."

"I'm glad to be back, hahren. If I never see a desert again it will be too soon."

He smiled at her words and moved to set the book he was holding on his desk. "Are you planning on staying here for a while then?"

"A couple of weeks. At least until after the ball thing at the Winter Palace. After that I will need to head to the Exalted Plains. I was hoping you would be willing to join me when I do, it being what it is."

He gave another nod and smiled again. "I would be happy to go with you. I have not been there in a long time. It will be interesting to sleep there again."

"I thought you might say as much." She returned his smile and took a step towards the outer door. "I look forward to it, but I must be going. Have a good night, Solas."

"You also, Tirnel." He looked amused as he watched her turn to push through the door, but she pretended not to notice.

It didn't matter that he very obviously knew where she was going. It wasn't like she was doing anything wrong by seeking out her Commander. She had been gone; she needed to know how her men were faring.

The door to Cullen's office stood open, and she could see several people within, which… put a damper on things, but she could adapt.

She slid in and around the door, propping herself into her usual corner as Cullen said something about patrols. She leaned against the table and watched as the commander wrote something on a parchment board.

He looked tired, his brown eyes were shadowed and his usually perfect hair was curling at the tips as if he had been running his hands through it so much the wax he refused to admit he used was coming off. It made her want to pull him into the corner with her and make him take a break. Not that he would. The man had no idea how to relax.

It was another minute before he realized she was there, but she had to hold back her laugh when he did. His eyes had slid over her and he had paused in his sentence, seemingly having lost his train of thought, before continuing, a small smile tilting his lips.

It was amazing how fast he herded his soldiers out after that. Not that she was overly surprised. She probably would have done the same if she thought she could get away with it without too much talk.

He leaned his arms against the door as he shut it, his head falling a moment before he reached out and gripped her arm. Giving a tug to bring her closer, he shifted until he could pull her against him, and simply buried his face against the side of her head.

"You're back."

"Yes." She rubbed her cheek against the fur of his collar, her eyes closing as she returned his embrace. She realized, almost suddenly, that she had dreamed about the smell of him while in the Western Approach, armor polish and lemon. A strange combination, but at the moment it was more than welcome.

"I'm glad." His voice was muffled against her, the words causing puffs of breath to warm her ear. He pulled back and studied her, a gloved hand coming up to rub at an almost healed slash over her eye before he dropped his arms altogether. "I was worried when you left so soon after Adamant."

"There were things I needed to finish further west, and I needed to get away from you for a bit. Let myself think."

His eyes widened at her words, but she didn't regret saying them. She had never been one to dance around an issue, or try to lie about it, so she saw no point in doing so now. She was surprised by his response, however.

"I've been thinking about us also."

"You have?"

He nodded before stepping away from her, his attention moving to his desk and the piles of paperwork that sat on it. "Well, about us in the future at least. I've been wondering what will happen with us when this is over. Assuming we survive of course. I have a whole world open to me now that I am no longer with the Order, but I don't think…" He trailed off and looked back at her, a rather sheepish smile forming. "I don't want to move on, not from you."

The words warmed something inside her, loosening the fear that Cole had so easily picked up on. She didn't think she wanted to move on from him either.

She moved to stand beside him at the desk, turning so that she could rest the back of her thighs against the edge of it. "I'm glad you said that."

He raised a hand to her waist, pulling at her so that she slid towards him. Dipping his head, he had just set his lips to hers when one of her hands, searching for a place to rest and steady herself, knocked into a bottle and sent it tumbling to the ground.

The shattering noise pulled their attention, both looking down at the sad remnants of glass a moment before she heard Cullen let out a soft laugh. She looked back to him just in time to watch him lean over her and sweep his arm along the desk, scattering books and papers in all directions before grabbing her waist to hitch her more fully onto the wooden top. She let herself fall back, her heart beating more quickly as he followed, crawling over her until he had covered her prone form.

She felt her breath hitch as he settled onto one arm, his knees bent on either side of her hips, and used his free hand to trace down the center of her chest. He bent his head to kiss her as he did so, his tongue playing over the seam of her lips until they parted for him, letting him dip inside.

She could feel the restraint of his actions as his fingers trailed over the curve of her breast, searching out the peak through the slightly padded fabric. She moaned at the faint brushes and arched her chest into his hand, her head turning from his a moment so she could speak.

"I want…Cullen, please."

She felt him smile against the side of her neck, his tongue finding the hollow where her pulse beat a rapid rhythm as he shifted so that he could free both arms and use his hands to release the buttons of her shirt. Her own hands went to the folds of his outer tunic, tugging blindly a moment before managing to push back the wad of fur and cloth so that he could pull it off and toss it unceremoniously to the floor.

Things seemed to quicken after that, in no time at all her own shirt had joined his tunic, and he had dipped his head to her breast, his lips closing over the taught peak even as his hands smoothed down her ribs and to her hips.

She arched against him again, the metal of his armor cold against her skin. She reached up, searching out the straps that held it on him, her fingers fumbling over the fastening until she felt him laugh against her skin.

"Having trouble?"

"It's not like I went around undressing all the warriors in my clan for practice," she snapped, annoyed at her own lack of dexterity.

When he only laughed again, she frowned. "You could help."

He nodded and straightened above her, resting his weight on his knees as he reached up to the armor buckles. After a few moments though he frowned and looked down to where his hands were working. "It's stuck."

"Stuck?"

"Yes, stuck. That's never happened before."

"Never happened before? Just how often do you undress on top of women?"

His eyes flew to hers and a blush reddened the bridge of his nose. "That's not what I meant."

She scrambled a bit to push herself up onto her hands, and frowned at the buckle he was working on. "Maybe we should find one of those other women and ask them for help. I'm sure one of your former conquests would be more than willing to have another go at helping you out of your armor."

His hands paused as he stared at her. "Did you just call the women I've slept with conquests?"

"So there are others?"

"That isn't the point."

"How many?"

"What, do you want me to write out a list?"

"It could be helpful."

"Well maybe I want one from you as well then."

"Fine!"

"Fine."

They stared at each other a moment, brows drawn low over identical annoyed expressions, when suddenly they both began to laugh.

It was ridiculous.

He lifted a knee so that he could fall into a sitting position at her side, then reached out and pulled her onto his lap, his lips seeking hers in a brief kiss.

"I've missed you, Nell."

He murmured it against her mouth before kissing her again, his still gloved hands running over her bare back. "No one. No one I have ever been with could ever even hold a candle to you."

She grinned at the words, her hands moving to the buckle again. "How do you know, you haven't even been with me yet."

He gave a shake of his head as the fastener released and she moved to the next one. "How could they?"

It seemed simple after that, and the rate at which his armor disappeared seemed to agree with that assessment.

* * *

><p>It was hours later that they made it up to his bed, and even longer after that that she woke to the sounds of morning. Never having been one for early rising, or leaving a warm bed, she burrowed under the covers and let herself think about more sleep. She had almost succeeded when she felt the form behind her begin to tremble, words of fear suddenly tumbling around her. She shifted around until she could see her sleeping companion and the fear that seemed to radiate from him. His face was twisted, the blanket they had been sharing kicked to the side, and his hands clinching at the air just above his chest.<p>

She pushed herself up, a hand going out to smooth over his arm before she had really even realized what was going on.

He jerked at her touch, his eyes shooting open as he bolted into a half sitting position. She murmured to him, her hand smoothing over his shoulder, as he stared around himself blindly for a few moments before letting his head fall back to the pillow.

She waited as he came back to himself, his eyes finding her and locking on as if she were the only thing that could keep him from slipping back into the fade.

"Bad dreams?" She tried to keep her voice light even as she moved her hand from his arm to his head, her fingers gliding over his scalp.

"They always are. Without lyrium they're worse."

"I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?"

He shook his head before reaching up to take her hand and draw it to his lips. "I'm the one who should apologize. I didn't mean to worry you."

She smiled at that, her fingers curling around the heat that had been left on her palm by his mouth. "I'm never worried."

She watched as he let out a chuckle, his hand moving from hers to her face to pull her closer. "I almost believe that, but I think I know you too well." He tilted his forehead to hers, and let out a long sigh. "You are… I just… I want you to know that I have never felt anything like this."

"I love you." The words tumbled from her before she could stop them, the weeks of uncertainty falling away in the light of a morning waking up in his bed. "I needed you to know that."

"I love you too."

He said it easily, as if he had merely been waiting for her to give him the chance, which of course he probably had. He did know her well, and that included knowing that she would need to work out her own feelings before she could accept his.

He pulled her down to him, lips lingering in a slow kiss before he rolled them over so he could look down at her. "We should probably get up."

She made a sound of disagreement and threaded her arms around his neck. "There's still time."

"Perhaps you're right," he agreed, his teeth finding her ear and causing her to gasp. "But you get to do the explaining if anyone asks why I wasn't out with the trainees at first light."

"I think I can manage that. I am the Inquisitor after all."

"So you are." He smiled against her cheek and set about putting their situation to good use.


	16. Annoyance

"Having trouble, Commander?"

The question was asked with a lilting laugh, and he looked up from where he had been watching his feet to see the Herald walking backwards in front of him.

"Pardon?" He mentally winced at how out of breath he sounded, and could tell by the widening of her grin that she heard it also.

"You look a bit winded. Wouldn't want the soldiers to think you were out of shape, would you?"

The question annoyed him, as he was sure it was meant to. It wasn't that he wasn't in shape, he was of course, he refused to be one of those commanding officers who let themselves go simply because they could, but fighting and walking up mountains in full armor were very different things.

"Of course not. I'm fine, My Lady."

"Your face is very red."

He scowled at her, and worked on regulating his breathing into a more relaxed pattern. She wasn't helping,

"And you're frowning."

He had a very real moment of seeing himself grabbing her arm and throwing her into one of the snow dunes that surrounded them, it would be an amusing way to get her to be quiet. He wasn't sure he wanted to deal with the gossip it would cause though. It was all well and good for her that she had probably spent most of her life walking for days, but it did nothing to help him. And it only stung more knowing that she spent every free moment she could find napping.

She shouldn't be allowed to be able to sprint around on a mountain like she was some sort of goat.

His thoughts swirled darker a moment before her voice cut through to him again.

"If you need to rest-"

"I'm fine," he ground out, interrupting her. He would curse Andraste herself before he admitted to wanting to stop and rest.

She laughed at that, the sound swirling around him before being lost to the open sky, and turned so that she was facing the right way. She paused a moment until they were side by side, and she could smile up at him with a friendliness that made him annoyed with himself for snapping at her.

Even if she deserved it.

"I can help keep your mind off the walk if you like. We still have a ways to go yet."

Part of him wanted to tell her that he was just fine on his own, and that she could take her distractions elsewhere, but another, far bigger, part of himself liked the way their arms brushed with every few steps.

"And how do you plan on doing that."

"Why, by telling you a story of course. I've trained to be a Keeper after all. I know lots of stories."

He couldn't help smiling at the words, his gaze moving back to the terrain in front of them and the seemingly endless snow and rocks.

"Alright, but it had better be a long one. I don't think we're finding shelter any time soon."

She laughed again, and he looked back at her in time to see her give a nod. "That, I can do."


	17. Your Face

The giant Qunari filling his doorway was not what he had been expecting when a knock had come on his door.

Neither was the elf woman who was perched on his back.

"Cullen, just the man I was looking for. I have a delivery for you."

He came around his desk as the Iron Bull bent down, allowing Nell to clamber off of him. Her stance was more than a little wobbly as she gripped the mercenary's arm, her head careening around until she saw Cullen, at which point she let go of her grip and tumbled towards him.

He quickened his pace, catching her arms before she could hit the floor. Adjusting his grip he looked from her too flushed face to the grinning mountain that still blocked the light from the doorway.

"What-"

"We were celebrating the dragon we killed back in the Hinterlands. I'll admit she made it further into the bottle than I thought she would."

"She's drunk?" He moved his hands to Nell's waist when she burrowed into the front of him, some muffled nonsense words he couldn't understand getting lost in the fur of his collar.

"Heh. Yeah." Bull looked amused, of course he did.

"It's the middle of the afternoon, and you got the Inquisitor drunk."

"Hey now. Don't sell her short. She got herself drunk just fine on her own, and then asked if I would help her get to her lion, and so here we are."

He felt his face heat at the term. He really needed to talk to her about calling him that to others, it was starting to spread. Maker, even Vivienne had mentioned it and the two mages hated each other.

He mumbled a thank you to Bull, even as the bigger man reached out to pat the Inquisitor's head before turning away. "Take good care of the boss, lion, she's going to be feeling it in the morning."

He really really needed to talk to her about calling him that.

He focused back down on the elf that had wrapped herself around him, and lifted a hand to tilt her face back. Blurry eyes met his, and she offered a wide smile. "Good, he found you."

He sighed and maneuvered her around until he was gripping her at his side. Keeping a firm hand on her waist he led her out of his office and onto the walkway that lead to the library tower. Mentally checking the schedule for the day he prayed that most people would be in the dining hall and he could get her to her rooms with minimal fuss.

They had just made it to the main hall when she stumbled to a stop, her fingers digging into his belt in an attempt to stop him also, and her body twisting as she gave an exaggerated look around.

Seeing only a small group of people near the throne, she turned back towards him and lifted her hands, bracketing his face between her palms. "Hold on, hold on. I want to look at you. I like looking at you," she said unsteadily, her words slurred and rushed together like they all wanted to leave her mouth at once.

He rolled his eyes at the gesture but humored her for a moment before pulling her into walking again. "Yes I know, you think I'm pretty."

She giggled at his statement, her head dropping so that her eyes watched the floor as they passed.

She didn't speak again until he had shut the door that lead to her private quarters, blocking off the curious gazes of the nobles they had passed. She pulled away from him when the door clicked and wobbled her way up a couple of steps before doing a decidedly precarious turn to face him almost eye to eye.

"No. I mean, yes, you are pretty, like a perfect fucking statue, it's annoying sometimes… makes me want to mess you up," she paused and giggled again, her hands reaching out to his shoulders to steady herself. "I think of lots of fun ways I could accomplish that, but that isn't why I like looking at you."

He lifted his hands to hers, tucking them more firmly against him so she was stable. "I'm guessing this is where you tell me why you like looking at me."

She gave a nod, her hair rioting into her eyes before he used his fingers to brush it back. "Yes."

They both fell silent, and he couldn't help the laugh that came out a moment later. "Well?"

"Well?" She looked confused before realization crossed her face. "Looking! I like looking because you help."

"I help?"

She nodded again, almost overturning herself with the movement, and causing him to grip her arms. "I need to. Big, bloody war or whatever… as Sera would say. I go out and catch things on fire, and make bad people stop doing bad things. Finding a way to seal the rifts. Kicking Coryphulus in the ass. Very important work."

It did sound like Sera. Maker's breath he didn't think he could handle her becoming more like Sera then she already was. "Yes, it is very important. What does that have to do with looking at me?"

She snorted and lifted a hand to his cheek, her gaze wandering off a moment before coming back to him. "Everything. That's all inquisitor work. When I look at your face though, it goes away. I'm just me because all I can think about is what the best possible way to get your pants off is, or what might make you laugh. I think about you when I'm traveling sometimes, even back at Adamant, traipsing around in the fade and hearing all the whispers of everything that could go wrong. Just get this done and you can see Cullen again. I don't know if I would have kept making it back after all those big things I did if I hadn't known your face would be there to see again."

"Nell-"

She moved her hand to his mouth, cutting off his words, though she leaned a bit too far with it, and had to take a moment to right herself again. "Even back before. Before we knew that Coryphenis was behind everything, and we were just pissing in the dark about what needed to be done. Sometimes I would get this flash. Wouldn't it be nice to see the Commander? I use to try to think up ways to make you smile… almost as much as I think up ways to make you scowl. You have a very impressive frown." She flicked a finger over his nose, laughter tumbling from her. "Your nose scrunches up."

All he could do was stare at her. What do you say to something like that? With one rushed, half focused, drunken rambling she had utterly destroyed him. Even hearing her say she loved him didn't compare to hearing this… this confession of need.

So he didn't try to reply. She would probably only remember half of it anyway. Instead he stepped forward and fitted his arms around her so that he could scoop her up to carry.

She reeled at the movement, her arms going around his neck even as he lowered his forehead to hers. "I love you."

She smiled at the words and kicked her feet as he pulled his head away and started up the steps. "Are you taking me to bed, Commander?"

"Yes, I think we've both done enough work for the day."


	18. Diplomacy

"You really should get off the floor, Inquisitor. What if someone comes in?"

"It will be no different than when they see me laying anywhere else?"

The ambassador gave a long sigh and reached down to Nell's prone form to hand her a list of names. "This is a list of the guests we know about, in order of importance, which will be at the Winter Palace. You need to memorize them."

Nell made a face at the paper and laid it to the side with the others they had been going over. "Yes, Josie."

If Josephine heard the sarcasm in her voice she ignored it, instead looking down at her own paper, checking off what else they needed to do. "You need dance lessons. Vivienne has agreed to help."

"Oh, I'm sure she is ecstatic about having me in her debt."

"Her motives are a secondary concern. We also need to work on your… diplomacy."

The pause made her laugh, and she rolled over onto her stomach before grinning up at her friend. "I can be diplomatic, Josephine."  
>The other woman didn't seem convinced. "I'm not saying you are rude, Your Worship. You are simply, very forward."<p>

"I think you mean blunt."

Josephine looked as if she was going to reply, but she stopped herself and turned to set her writing board on her desk, then moved to sit in a chair near where Nell lay. "You cannot simply say what you want to say at the Winter Palace, Nell. The Game may seem ridiculous and pointless to you, but it is very real and very important to those that we are trying to impress. It is also the only way you will be able to find out about the assassin. It would not do to be turned out of the ball because you offended someone too openly."

Nell rolled her eyes and sat up, turning so that she could face her advisor. "Just because I don't enjoy talking around an issue does not mean that I don't know how. I have spent most of my life training to be a Keeper. Do you know what that means?"

"To be the leader of your clan, and remember the old tales, yes."

"Is that all you think we do?"

Josephine looked down and began picking at a loose thread on her sleeve. "I admit I do not know as much about your people as I should. It is easy to forget sometimes that you had a life before all this."

Nell smiled and folded her hands in her lap. "It means that I learned about trade routes, and human and dwarven culture, and diplomacy, because when we do encounter other races the Keeper is the one who must speak for the clan. They are the ones who have to try and negotiate safe passage or set up trade with a village, and we have to be twice as reassuring, as charming, as well spoken as the humans because we are still the 'dirty knife-ears' that are going to steal their babies."

Josephine had the grace to look offended at the summation of her people's view on elves, but she did not deny it.

"So yes, I am blunt, because I despise playing those games when it is so much easier to say what you want and then get it, but I can play them. I won't embarrass you, Josie, not with this at least."

They stared at each other a moment before Josephine waved her hands. "Alright, I believe you that you have an idea of what I'm talking about, but-"

Nell groaned and flopped back to the floor, her eyes sliding shut as the woman's voice droned around her.

"Fine!" She shouted after a minute of Josephine talking, and pushed herself up to standing. She headed towards the door as the ambassador jumped up behind her.

"Where are you going?"

"To seduce someone and prove my point."

"What?"

"I'm going to work my, according to you, imaginary charm and talk one, or twenty, of the nobles into my bed… or maybe a closet."

She could hear Josephine scrambling after her, and had to bite down on a smile. "And when Cullen decides he can no longer be with me because I have become a woman of ill repute, you can be the one to let him know that I had to break his heart because you didn't believe me."

"This is not funny, Inquisitor!"

She shoved open the door to the main hall after giving an exaggerated nod. "Oh I agree."

It was hilarious.


	19. A Walk

"Do you want to go on a walk with me?"

He turned at the voice, surprisingly close, and came face to face with the Herald. Well, face to top of leather covered head.

He focused his attention down and couldn't help the startled laugh that slipped past his lips at the sight of her.

She was wearing a coat that was obviously made for someone of human proportions, and more than likely male because she was lost in the bundle of it. She had it bunched together and tied with a cord at her waist, but the hem still dragged at the ground, and her hands were nowhere near the ends of the sleeves.

The leather he had originally seen was a fur lined hat that was pulled low over her brow.

He tried to cough over the laugh but could tell it was already too late when she shrugged. "I know I look ridiculous, but it was all they had, and it is cold!" She pulled at her collar and sent him an amused smile. "So is that a yes or a no to the walk?"

"I appreciate the offer-"

"You have been out here since dawn. It's not going to hurt you to take a break."

It was a surprise that she knew what he had been doing, but a pleasant one. Plus, he had been working extra hours trying to get everything ready for the mages who would be there in a few days and a walk might help the headache that had steadily been getting worse.

"Alright."

He spoke to one of the present lieutenants and then followed her out of the tangle of fighters that he had been watching. She didn't say anything for the first few minutes that she lead him down one of the snow covered paths, her hands tucked deep into the pockets of her coat, as the sounds of fighting drifted into the distance behind them.

When they had rounded a bend, and the village was lost to the distance she stopped, her face tilting up to his. "Are you alright?"

He blinked at her, confused. "My Lady?"

"You look like you're in pain."

Had it been that obvious? He had thought he hid it better. "It is just a headache. Nothing to concern yourself with."

"I'm not concerned. I am just curious as to whether you will let me help you."

He supposed she meant with magic, and started to tell her no, but something about the 'not concern' in her face gave him pause. She had searched him out and then offered privacy before asking. Plus, he would have to head back immediately if he turned her down, while saying yes would mean a few more minutes in her company.

Not that he was wanting to spend time with her.

He didn't let himself think about it, instead he simply nodded his head.

She studied him a moment before reaching out and taking one of his hands, tugging at it until he let her pull him to an outcrop of rocks. Settling onto one of the flatter ones, he watched as she removed her gloves and rubbed her hands together.

"Is this why you wanted me to come walking with you?"

She gave a hum of agreement before reaching out to place her hands on either side of his face. "Well that and I wanted to spend time with you."

He could feel the magic that had started coming from her hands, and raised a brow in question. "You… You wanted to spend time with me?"

"Yes."

He felt his cheeks heat, and wondered if he was blushing or if it was part of what she was doing. "Why?"

"I think you're pretty. I'd like to know if you are interesting under all that attractiveness, or if you're simply the type I'd tumble into bed with and not care what happened to you the next morning."

A wave of warmth eased through his head, causing his eyes to drift shut in appreciation as it chased away the ache. "Are you always so blunt, My Lady?"

When she replied her voice had taken on a softer tone, the cadence of it matching with the ebbs of power she was sending into him. "Nell. My name is Nell, well, Tirnel, but I don't expect anyone to call me that. And to answer your question, yes. Does it bother you?"

He didn't answer right away, focused as he was on the relief that he was finally feeling. He could still feel the pain, a barely there twinge in the back of his skull, but he felt better when she pulled her hands away.

Opening his eyes, he couldn't help smiling at her curious expression. "No. Contrary to what Varric might think, I do know how to handle a woman's interest."

She settled next to him, her lips twitching into a smile. "By blushing and stuttering?"

He scowled at the idea, mostly because it did seem to describe how he acted around her. "No."

"Because you do."

"That is not how I normally react."

Her smile widened and she leaned back on her hands. "So it's just me than."

The blushing he had just sworn against made another appearance as he realized what he had said. "I don't- I, uh…" He blew out a breath and looked away when she let out a soft laugh.

"I should get back to work."

She reached out a hand to his arm when he made to stand, and when he looked back she wore a look of apology, though her eyes were still bright with humor. "Forgive me, Commander. I can't seem to help myself. Please stay. I really would like to get to know more about you."

He studied her a moment before settling back again, admitting silently to himself that he really didn't have much of a urge to replace her company with his men's.

"Very well, what would you like to know?"


	20. You can do This

She nearly jumped when the box hit the door next to her, but the words that followed it stopped her.

"Maker's breath, I didn't know you were there."

She looked over to see Cullen leaned over his desk, his hands still curled in a half grasp of the air in front of him. She watched as he lifted one of the still grasping hands to his face and pulled down over his eyes and mouth.

"Well, as long as you weren't aiming for me I promise not to take offense."

He gave a shake of his head and started around the desk. "I swear, I did-" His words stumbled to a stop as his feet fumbled and he had to grasp the desk at the last moment to keep from falling.

She started forward, her mind glancing over the thought that she wasn't sure if she could support him, but he held up a hand to stop her.

She stopped short of him, her hands still reaching out, fingers itching to touch him. She settled with words instead. "Are you alright?"

He was staring at the ground, his hand fisted against the wood of his desk even as he tried to push himself upward again. "Yes, of course…." He trailed off as he steadied himself into a more upright position. "I don't know," he finally admitted, still not meeting her gaze.

She watched as he straightened, his position unsteady a moment before he turned from her, blindly seeking out the window behind his desk. When he spoke again the words were strained. "You asked what happened in the Fereldan Circle."

"If you don't want-"

He cut her off with another wave of his hand, his eyes fixed on the slit of sky, his shoulder leaning heavily on the stone wall beside it. "The other Templars, my… my friends, were killed." He buried his face in his hands a moment, but she didn't try to go towards him again.

It didn't seem right.

"I was… I was tortured… They tried to break my mind… How can you be the same person after that?"

You couldn't. Not that she knew, but she doubted that was what he wanted to hear. Besides, he was still talking.

"…Wanted to serve. I was sent to Kirkwall, and I trusted my Knight-Commander, but for what? Her fear of mages ended in madness."

"Cullen."

He waved her off again, his gaze moving back to her, though his expression proved that his thoughts were still far off. "Kirkwall's Circle fell. Innocent people died in the streets. Can't you see why I want nothing to do with that life?"

She took a step forward, one hand coming up in some wasted symbol of understanding. "Of course. You don't have to explain yourself to me."

"Don't. Don't." He pushed off the wall and started towards her, hands scrubbing over his face again. "You of all people should be questioning what I've done. I have not been kind, I didn't want to be."

She tried to picture him being cruel and came up with a blank, it just didn't seem possible even when he didn't like someone; instead she moved to his desk and leaned against it. "You had reason to have doubts."

"Doubts?" He let out a humorless laugh and turned his face towards her, his expression shuttered. "I did not think mages were people. I didn't think they deserved freedoms. What does that say about me?"

When she didn't respond he started pacing, his movement's jerky and unsure. "I thought this would be better. I thought I could start over, that I could regain some sort of control over my life, could see the truth, but these thoughts… they won't leave me."

She watched as he moved to the door then back towards her and away again, his gaze fixed on the floor. "How many people depend on us? On our success? I swore myself to this cause. I won't give less to it than I did the Chantry."

He moved to the bookshelf near his desk and she flinched when he shot a fist out into it sending the books rioting around his arm and to the ground. "I should be taking it." The words exploded out of him, frustration evident and quickly gone since his repeat of the phrase sounded small and broken. "I should be taking it."

She stared at him a minute, watching as his fist continued to clinch and he stared hard at the books still in their places. Finally, she pushed off the desk and stepped toward him, cautious for any statement for her to stay away; when she received none she placed a hand on his arm. "Cullen, you don't have to do this to yourself. This doesn't have to be about the Inquisition. You have given more to it already than anyone would have asked of you. Is taking Lyrium again what you want?"

His eyes moved to hers, his breath coming out in ragged puffs before he managed to calm them. When all finally seemed quieter, he gave a single shake of his head. "No."

"So that's the answer than."

He stared at her a minute, his fist still pressed against the books. When he spoke he sounded almost defeated. "These thoughts aren't going to stop haunting me. If I cannot endure this-"

She reached up a hand to cut him off, her fingers pressing into the soft skin of his lips even as she offered him a tilted smile. "Of course you can. I know you can."

He pressed himself into her hand a moment before giving an unsure nod. When he made to pull away she dropped her hand and turned to make her way across the room, her hands already gathering the strewn pieces that had flown out of the box that he had thrown. She dumped everything into the broken box, its lid hanging bent from a single hinge, and scooped it into her arms.

When she would have turned to leave his voice stopped her. "What are you doing?"

She glanced back at him, her arms tucking the box closer. "Well, I planned on getting this fixed then putting it somewhere it wouldn't be taunting you."

He stared at her for long enough that she shifted uncomfortably under his regard, finally, he dropped his hand from the bookshelf and took a step towards her. "I don't think…"

"You don't think what?" She clutched the box tighter and frowned at him. "Why is it important that you leave it in here? You already make a decision every day to not take Lyrium. What are you trying to prove by keeping this within arm's reach? Why put yourself through something that isn't necessary? Why make it harder on yourself?"

He didn't answer her, simply stared at the box in her hands before turning his face to the side, worry evident in his eyes.

She took pity on the lost look and reached up to scrub at her hair. "I'm not throwing it away. I'm just going to keep it safe. Don't you trust me?"

His eyes moved back to her, gaze unsure before he reached out a shaking hand to her cheek. "Of course. Of course I do, but this- What you are asking is not easy."

She forced herself to give a reassuring smile and leaned into his hand a moment before stepping backwards and away. "Are you alright? Should I stay?"

He shook his head, a self-deprecating smile pulling at his lips. "No. I'm alright. I think I need to be alone for a while anyway."

She wanted to say more to that. To tell him that he was never alone, not ever as long as she was around, but she didn't know how to not make it sound like she was making him let her stay so she gave a single nod in response.

"If you need anything…"

"I'm sure you will be more than happy to provide it."

She felt her brows lower even as she flexed her fingers into the wood of the box.

"Alright then."

He turned away from her, face closing off from even the small amount of emotion he had let her see, so she took the hint and turned and left.


	21. Work

He should be working.

He had been working.

He was still slightly unsure why he no longer was.

He had gone looking for the Inquisitor, needing her signature on a number of papers that had piled up in the weeks she had been gone, and been greeted with empty space at the desk she was supposed to be working at.

So he had searched, the stack of sacks in the attic of the tavern where the boy he could never quite remember liked to frequent, the corner near the fireplace in the main hall where Varric worked, the couch in Solas' office, the chair in Dorian's nook.

All the places she could normally be found were empty, and he had felt his frustration growing even as he started up the flight of stairs to Leliana's Rookery to ask the Spymaster if she had any ideas of where their leader might be.

She obviously did, but instead of simply telling him she had pointed to the door that lead out to the tower's ledge and continued her conversation with her spy.

So he had finally found her, tucked at the far end of the walkway, a blanket around her to ward off the chill of the mountain air, and papers set out in a half circle in front of her like some sort of ineffectual barrier.

She had smiled when he appeared, cutting off his words about things that needed to be done, and voicing an opinion of her own now that he was there with her.

And now he was tucked into the corner of the walkway himself, an elf in his arms and a blanket around them both while the paperwork they both needed to be finishing sat in a hastily stacked pile beside them.

He didn't have time for this. Neither of them did, but that didn't seem to stop his arms from drawing her in closer so that he could rest his chin on her shoulder or his eyes from closing as he breathed in the scent of her… smoke and heat, she often reminded him of a campfire.

"There are things to do."

"Later."

"They shouldn't wait."

He could almost feel her body move against his armor as she laughed and turned her head, her lips ghosting over his cheek before he turned to capture them with his own.

He should be working.

He should.

Later.


	22. Curious

The one single thing she missed the most about her clan was the utter lack of things that needed her signature on them.

Creators she hadn't even known what her signature was supposed to be until all this Inquisitor business had started.

It still made her scowl to remember the day in Josie's office writing her name over and over again until she thought she might go cross eyed.

She only scowled more when she was confronted with the still unsigned stack of paper before her. Sure, the signed stack was bigger, but she could already hear Josie's voice in her mind, "Inquisitor, almost is not done".

She dragged her hands over her strained eyed and stretched out her legs, her back falling against the couch she was sitting in front of, and raised her arms over her head, fingers flexing to remove the cramp holding the quill had caused.

She looked at the ceiling a moment before pushing herself off the ground. eyes searching for something, anything, to distract her.

When nothing stood out she began to wander around the room.

She contemplated going to get food but put it out of her mind, if she left now she would never come back to finish anything.

She made her way into the changing room, or whatever it was, where her wardrobe and wash stand stood, and took a moment to make a face into the mirror that hung there before turning to contemplate the metal comb and small clay jar that stood next to the wash basin.

They weren't hers, but it warmed her a little to see them.

She had never been one for combs, content as she was with a quick run of her fingers through her hair, and she had never put anything into her hair that might try to tame it in some way.

But Cullen seemed a fan of both.

She had tried for weeks, and sent several letter while she had been out in the field, to talk him into spending at least some of his nights in her quarters. She had made several arguments for them being more private, especially after they had been interrupted more then once by oblivious guards, and had all but given up under his continual statement that even though their relationship was no secret it would be highly inappropriate for them to share a quarters.

But when she had returned the week before, too early in the morning for even the stable hands to help with the mounts, she had found him stretched out in her bed, his armor placed neatly on the couch by the fire.

When she had crawled into the bed with him, waking him with a none to subtle press of her still cold skin to his sleep warmed form, he had smiled and stated that he had missed her smell.

He had been there ever since, and his things had slowly been following suite.

She moved to pick up the small jar, pulling off the lid and lifting it to her nose to take a sniff, letting the subtle fragrance of lemons fill her.

She had never seen him use it on his hair, he got up far earlier then she did, but she had no doubt as to what the wax was used for. She had seen his hair after a bath, the tips curling around her fingers when she buried them next to his scalp, and the way they were smoothed out the next morning, not a lock out of place.

Curious, she lifted a finger to run through the mixture, lifting some out before setting the jar down. She smoothed it between her hands, letting it soften between her palms as she turned to the mirror.

After a brief contemplation she lifted her hands and smoothed the wax over her hair, working it in with her fingers and tilting her head slightly to see any spots she may have missed.

Getting distracted by the lock at the top of her head that refused to lay down for anything, she was more than a little caught off guard when someone spoke behind her.

"What are you doing?"

The words caused her to jump, her hip hitting the wash stand and sending the jar and comb tumbling to the floor.

She made a grab for them, which of course only caused them to riot around more before hitting the ground with a clang and crash respectively.

She stared at the mess the splattered wax made a moment before spinning to the currently laughing figure that stood by the door.

"Dread Wolf take you, Dorian! What are you doing here?"

He managed to get his laughter under control after a moment then folded his arms over his chest, grey eyes more than a little amused. "Are you… styling you're hair?"

"No!" The word burst out of her even as she knelt to try and scoop up the mess. Feeling her face heat she shot him another glare. "I was… curious."

"Curious? Oh…"

She didn't like the way his voice trailed off, or the way his expression had turned calculating. Tossing the gathered pieces and mess onto the wash stand she scrambled up to thrust a finger into his chest. "You are not to tell anyone about this."

"Oh?" He drawled the repeated word out as he stared at her.

"No. So help me, Dorian, if I hear one word about this from anyone, one single word, I will kill you."

"Empty threat, Nellie love, you couldn't live without me."

She glared at him, mouth twisting a moment before an idea came to her. "Fine, then believe me when I say this, because it is true. If you tell anyone what you just saw I will make sure every piece of armor you are allowed to wear from here on out is made out of plaidweave."

His eyes narrowed a bit at her words, and he dropped his arms. "That stuff is repulsive."

"Every single damn thing, Dorian, down to the shoes."

They stared at each other a minute before he finally gave a small smile. "It might be worth it."

She thought she might have growled at him before turning to wipe the wax from her hands onto a towel that hung by the door, let him try to call her bluff than, she had no problems with making him look ridiculous.

"Why are you here?"

"Vivienne is looking for you, you are supposed to be training your Knight-Enchanter abilities with her."

She did groan now. She would have to pick a magic specialization that involved a woman helping her that would more than love to see her dead beneath a dragon.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

She should have stuck with the paperwork.

"Fine." She made to pass him but stopped and stuck another finger in his direction. "I was serious, Pavus. Not a word."

"Dearest Nellie, you must learn to trust me more than that."

She snorted at the thought, oh she trusted him, trusted him to be who he was.

She would be lucky if the whole of Skyhold didn't know before sundown.

"Right," she muttered before walking to the stairs.


	23. Tell Me Something True

He noticed the boy before any of the others did. He stood just off to the side of the ballroom, the light from the lamps casting strange shadows over him as he shifted uncomfortably.

By the way people moved around him, excited twitters of gossip flowing between them, he wondered if he was making sure no one else could see him.

He caught the spirit's eye and made his way over, worry settling in his gut at the unsure look on the half hidden by hair face.

"Cole, what is it?"

"Can you come? She needs you. Dorian and Cassandra tried talking to her but she left. She doesn't want them. She doesn't want me either, or anyone but she needs. Her thoughts are anxious, angry, annoyed. She's stretched to the breaking point and she wants out, but there isn't an out here. I'm worried."

He didn't need to ask who he was talking about, he simply told him to take him to her while the worry grew into a bigger ball.

They found her on one of the balconies, crouched at the edge of it with her head pressed into the railing and her arms folded over it. She didn't move as he stepped out and shut the door behind him.

She was shaking.

"Nell."

She started at his voice, jumping up in a less than elegant move and spinning to face him. Her face twisted when she realized who he was.

"I'm not going back in there. I'm done. I don't want to talk to anyone else. Isn't that what Josephine's for?"

"I wasn't-"

"I mean it. I'm sick to death of their- their bullshit. If you try to talk me into it I won't even bother with using magic on you, I'll just stab you with my dagger."

He held up a hand, brows lowering as he watched her pace away from him. "You don't have to go anywhere."

"How can people live like this? Calculating every word they say and watching, always watching. They don't say anything. They talk and talk and nothing of any substance comes out. And it's everywhere. Everywhere I went in there I had to do the right thing, say the right words, look at the right person. I can't do it anymore. I don't want to!"

Her words grew progressively louder, hands whipping around as she turned back to look at him, her face a never before seen mask of anxiety.

Judging by the brief glimpse of surprise he saw in her eyes before her face was covered by her hands, she wasn't expecting it either.

"I shouldn't have to-" Her words stopped on a broken breath and he stepped towards her, reaching out to grasp her arm and draw her into him, his arms wrapping around her shoulders as hands and face pressed into his chest.

They stood like that for several minutes, her shoulders shaking with the force of her shuddered breathing, while he tightened his arms and pressed his cheek to her hair, and felt completely incompetent at being able to do anything to help.

He didn't know how to offer comfort when no one had ever asked him to before.

When she spoke again her voice was muffled and shakey. "I shouldn't have to tell three grown adults that they need to play nice because there is a Darkspawn Magister trying to destroy the world. I shouldn't have to blackmail them to get them to behave."

He turned his head enough to press a kiss to her hair. "No, you shouldn't."

"They called me rabbit, like I should think it's some sort of endearment. Even after knowing who I am. They called all the elves that. We aren't fucking fluffy animals, we're people, and I still had to play their game, even knowing they were insulting me as well they could without saying it directly to my face."

It angered him to hear it, made him want to ask who so he could find a sword and stab them. He tightened his hold more instead.

She dropped her hands from her face and slid them around him to return his embrace, her face scrubbing a bit at the front of his coat, muffling her even more. "I don't think I can do this, Cullen. Not this. I'll kill whatever you all want me to, but I don't know if I can do another night like this."

"I don't think you will have to, but if it helps you did a wonderful job. With all of it. You were amazing."

A humorless laugh beat against his chest. "I don't care," she spat out vehemently. "I don't care if I was the fucking belle of the ball. I don't want this to be the thing I am good at. It's enough that I have to smile and play nice with the people we get at Skyhold."

"Of course." He pulled back enough to put a hand to her chin and tip her face up. She looked exhausted, her face pale behind her tattoo and freckles, causing both to stand out in stark relief. "I'll personally turn down any more invitations you might get."

She sent him a tired smile and ducked herself back into his chest. "I wanted to set every single person that asked you about being single tonight on fire."

He did laugh at that, and felt her follow suite. "I would have let you."

He smoothed a hand over her hair and kissed it again. "I will say that I enjoyed watching you dance. You were beautiful."

He felt her hands clutch at his back before she spoke. "Do me a favor. Tell me something true. Don't dress it up, or try to make it pretty. Just tell me something I don't have to parse out the meaning of."

"I love you."

He felt her smile again. "Besides that."

He thought about it for a minute, not because he didn't have anything to say, but because there was too much.

He settled on something simple.

"Vivienne sneaks apples to the horses in the stables. She doesn't want anyone to know, I'm guessing it would go against her image, but I've seen her a few times when on the battlements. She spends time petting them also."

Her laugh was stronger after that, and she lifted her face and arms to pull his head down to her and press her lips to his.

She tasted like champagne, but it was a quick thing, and long before he was ready to stop kissing her she had pulled back and grinned at him. "That might have been the best thing you could have ever told me. I'm so glad you found me."

"As am I."

He turned his head as music began to spill out of a nearby window, the party apparently back in swing after all the excitement.

"Can we leave? I mean, do we have to stay any longer? We don't have to wait for the others do we?"

Her words interrupted his thoughts and he looked back down at her with a nod. "Anything you want. I'd say you've earned it, but first, seeing as I probably won't get another chance…"

He pulled away from her and offered a slight bow, his hand coming up in offering. "May I have this dance, My Lady?"

She stared at him a few seconds, her face quizzical before she replied in an amused tone. "Of course, but I thought you said you didn't dance."

He gripped her fingers when she placed them in his and pulled her back to him and into a slow turn.

He didn't dance, he would probably step on her feet or trip them into the door, but he didn't want her whole night to have been a nightmare, and he didn't want her only dance to have been with the enemy.

"For you, I'll try."


	24. Awkward

She glared at the circle mage for a good thirty seconds, hating everything about everything that came out of her mouth, before finally replying.

"I appreciate that you want to help us, Lady Vivienne, and I am also trying my best to respect you for being so firm in your ideals… but I don't like you."

The woman stared down at her, somehow making her expression both pitying and condescending at the same time. "I hope I will be able to live through such disregard. Now off with you, Darling, you are looking very tired. Perhaps you should rest?"

Nell was very sure she growled before stalking to the door of the Chantry.

Stupid, preening… Orlesian.

"Is everything alright?"

A hand landed above hers on the wood of the door, pushing it open before she had the chance, she looked up at it then followed the arm it was attached to until she got to Commander Cullen's curious face.

She waited until they had stepped outside before answering him, her hands making fists in her hair a moment. "I should probably let you know, so that someone is aware, I cannot promise that I won't strangle that woman in her sleep before all of this is over."

"Lady Vivienne?"

"Lady Vivienne, spawn of a demon, either works."

He looked back at the Chantry, a tilted smile forming. "I find her quite refreshing myself."

She made a sound of disgust that would probably make Cassandra proud, her arms folding over her chest as she muttered out a reply. "She's about as refreshing as a dragon flying out of my ass."

She didn't expect the laugh that followed her words. It was… adorable, like he was a teenager who had just seen someone slip in the mud. She looked back at him in time to see him swipe a hand over his mouth, a cough coming out in some wasted attempt to distract from the sound.

"My apologies, Herald. I just… didn't expect that mental image."

Mythal preserve her, it wasn't fair. How was she supposed to focus on the job at hand when she knew that he existed? That he laughed like that? All she wanted now was to know how she could get him to do it again.

"Not-not that I was picturing anything about your… um…That is-"

The stutter made her smile before interrupting him. "You're kind of an awkward person aren't you, Commander."

He blushed at the observation and looked away, his hand coming up to rub at his neck in a way she had learned meant he was embarrassed. "Not usually."

"Somehow I don't believe that. Don't worry though, I think I like it. However, I should warn you, if you ever snort with your laugh I will be forced to… what is it you Chantry people call it- ah, yes, marry you."

His blush deepened, and his hand stayed at his neck, but his eyes turned back to her, interest evident. "Is that not what the Dalish do?"

She shook her head and dropped her arms to her sides. "No, well, we don't call it that. We have a Joining ceremony and whatnot, but it wouldn't work for you, not being Dalish and all. Besides, I couldn't see you running around in the forest. You might get twigs in your hair and then where would we be?"

She gave him a friendly pat on the arm as he lowered it. "So it would have to be marrying."

"That is good to know, My Lady."

"But you don't have to worry about it as long as you never snort."

He stared at her for a few seconds before speaking again. "I will keep that in mind."

His voice was low enough and his gaze serious enough that she shifted uncomfortably, her cheeks growing warm, and gave a laugh of her own, though it was a weak, nervous thing.

When had he gotten the upper hand?

She gave a shake of her head, her hands automatically reaching to where the staff on her back would be even when she should have remembered that it wasn't there.

Grasping air, she made a point to not look back at him and the small smile that she just knew would be there.

"Right, well, I'm sure you need to get back to work."

She took a deliberate step away from him but paused when he spoke again.

"Herald."

Still not meeting his gaze, she half turned to stare at the tents that were behind him. "Yes?"

"It seems you are a bit awkward also."

She grumbled some reply that had his smile widening, not that she was paying attention to it out of the corner of her eye, before turning to walk away.

Creators, she didn't want to think about the fact that he might be right.


	25. Gift

"You got me a present?"

"Don't look too much into it. Leliana was telling me about Satinalia and how sometimes people give presents, and I just thought it seemed like a nice gesture."

"I-I didn't get you anything," he replied lamely. Why hadn't he thought to get her anything?

She rolled a shrug and moved over to sit in his desk chair. "I didn't expect you to."

When he continued to stare down at the small box in front of him, she made an impatient gesture and drew her feet into the chair. "Will you just open it. It isn't going to bite you."

He had been thinking about the fact that he had been so caught up with trainings and drills that he hadn't even put thought to what time of the year it was, and she deserved better than forgotten things such as that, no matter that she would simply shrug and say they were both busy and given it no more thought.

She had gotten him a present.

He shook his head and focused back on the box before him, slightly amused at the annoyed look of impatience she was giving him. Deciding that he didn't want her grabbing the present and announcing he no longer got it, he pulled away the lid.

The contents was a statue of a… Halla… Yes, he remembered seeing one once. It was carved out of a dark red wood, and polished to a shine, its base etched with runic symbols that he couldn't even begin to understand.

It was very impressive, and he told her so.

She had wrapped her arms around her knees, and her fingers twisted as she watched him lift the statue and turn it over in his hands. "I know it's silly, but I had it and I just thought…" She blew out a breath and he had to smother a laugh because if there was one thing he had learned about her, it was the fact that she was terrible at admitting to any types of romantic feelings.

"I just thought you might like it."

He set the Halla on his desk and moved to stand in front of her. "I do like it. I didn't mean to seem ungrateful, I just can't remember the last time someone gave me a present and it was surprising."

She shifted so she could kneel in the chair, rising onto her knees so they were closer in height. "I can't think of when I've ever given someone one. Not since my brother was small and I would find him berries to eat."

The idea made him smile and he took a step closer before settling his hands on her hips. "Allow me to thank you properly than."

He ducked his head down, his lips settling over hers, even as she hummed in approval and lifted her hands to thread behind his neck.

It had only been a couple of weeks since their first, proper kiss, and with how busy they had both been he was still learning her, and not at the speed he wished he could since all they ever seemed to find were stolen moments and dark corners or abandoned battlements.

He caught himself trying to memorize what it was he did with his teeth on her lip that made her gasp, or the way that when he kissed her in the morning she tasted like the mint she added to her tea.

'He wanted to learn more', was his one thought as his mouth trailed from hers and down to the crook of her neck. He let his lips and teeth play over the freckles there, soaking in the shuddering breath she let out, even as his hand slid under the hem of her shirt and over the smooth silk of her back.

Her hands moved up to tangle into the back of his hair, and he had taken a step closer to her, cursing the solid barrier of his armor, when the door from the western battlements clicked open.

They didn't jump apart so much as each of them froze in their movements with twin growls of frustration. By the time he shot his gaze to the now open door the guard was already stuttering out an apology and stumbling back out.

Unfortunately, they had left the door open.

He heard Nell laugh and looked down to her, his mind shooting to how he wanted to hunt down the guard and punch them when she eased back from him and slid down from the chair.

"This probably wasn't the best time for that."

When was? But he understood what she meant. As much as he wanted it to not matter, the middle of the day in his office was not the time for him to show his appreciation.

However, if he didn't get to show it soon he was very sure he would explode.

"I'm glad you like your gift, Commander."

The use of his title was a deliberate thing that he welcomed because it helped to focus him back on their present situation. "It will remind me of you."

She gave a nod and had turned to the door before he reached out his hand to stop her. "I hope I get to show you how much I like it soon."

"So do I."

He watched her leave then dropped heavily into his chair, his eyes on the carved animal.

Soon was not nearly going to be soon enough.


	26. Touching

She had never been big on touching.

Well, that wasn't completely true. She didn't mind pats on the shoulder or the occasional ruffling of her hair that so many people seemed to enjoy, but she had never understood the appeal of holding hands, or prolonged hugs, or leaning into someone while sitting by a fire.

People were hot and itchy things that took up space when she would rather stretch out, and hand holds lead to sweaty palms and the inability to move off on your own.

It's not that she begrudged others their constant need for contact, but she was happy enough to let them seek it out far away from her.

She should have known that her thoughts on the matter would have to change when she willingly entered a relationship with someone.

He loved touching.

There were the usual small things, a finger hooking over one of her own as they went over reports, an arm bumping hers as they stood by the war table, or feet touching when they sat at a table for dinner, but he would also toy with her hair when he stood behind her in his office while she looked at the guard rotations, and slip his hand around hers if she joined him on a patrol of the battlements, and he always, always pulled her into an embrace, his cheek resting against her head for several minutes anytime she returned from a mission out in the field.

It was like he needed the contact, the pressure of her against him. She thought once, when he had kissed her breathless then simply stood with her wrapped in his arms, that it was like he had been bereft of contact his whole life and was trying to make up for it with her.

It wouldn't be surprising.

She knew that his life had not been easy, knew that he had kept a tight reign on his emotions since his time at the Fereldan Circle. He was the type to hold himself to a higher standard, the type to have to be in control, and she couldn't blame him after what chaos had put him through.

Their moments together were probably the only time he felt he didn't need to be on top of the situation.

So she never stepped away from their embraces first, never told him he was too hot when he pulled her to him during the night, and never stopped encouraging him to sit with her in the quiet down times when she could lean into his chest and coax him into relaxing.

If it made him happy she could handle it, and if it helped him stay strong through the worst moments she would happily keep physical contact for as long as he wanted.

And while she told herself that it was all for him, she could admit, at least to herself, that it didn't bother her as much as she thought it might.


	27. Snort

Her head was cold.

She made a face against it and turned to press her nose into the pillow, her breath in the small cove she created warming the very tip of her face.

After a moment she felt the covers that she had cocooned herself in being pulled down further.

"Nell."

She grumbled at the voice and pressed herself further into the pillow. "Go away."

"It's nearly noon."

"I killed a darkspawn magister, I am allowed to sleep until noon."

She could almost hear the chuckle that accompanied another tug. "That was over two weeks ago. Josephine has informed me that you have spent enough time holed up, and you have to come and meet with the nobles who have arrived whether you want to or not."

She grumbled again.

"She also told me to tell you that you have to act friendly."

She groaned at the words and flipped over, her hands grasping at the covers and giving them a halfhearted tug back up as she studied the blond man standing beside the bed.

"I'm always friendly."

He stared at her a moment before laughing, and since the sound never failed to amuse her she couldn't help grinning in response.

"Go ahead, pull the other one."

"Well, I'm not mean."

They smiled at each other another for a few seconds before she gave an exaggerated sigh and flopped herself from the bed. "Fine. Fine."

She staggered past him and into the changing room, shooting her words back over her shoulder. "But you have to come with me."

She could hear him moving closer to the door before he replied. "I have work I need to do with the troops that are about to head out."

She frowned at him as she pulled the shirt of her under armor over her arms and began buttoning it.

"I wasn't aware of any troop movement."

"Because you've been holed up for the past two weeks."

She scrunched her nose at him before moving forward to kiss his chin. "Don't act like you weren't holed up here with me most of the time."

He slid his arms around her waist and it suddenly hit her that he wasn't dressed in his usual armor. She blinked at him and stepped back a bit to look down at his chest and shoulders where there was a distinct lack of fur.

"What are you wearing?"

He dropped his hands from her hips and looked away while tugging at the hem of his blue tailored coat.

"Clothes, why?"

"You aren't wearing your armor."

"I don't always wear armor."

"Yes you do."

He frowned at her and lifted his hand to rub it over his neck. "I was informed that now that Corypheus has been defeated I have to look less… formidable when dealing with our guests. Apparently it gives a bad impression to look serious and be wearing armor all the time."

She could feel her smile widening as he spoke. "Josephine is making you dress up for the nobles." At his distinctly uncomfortable look she had to bite back a laugh. "Well," she said lightly as she stepped to him again and lifted her hands to run them over his back, "if it helps, I like the idea of easier access to you."

"Is that so?"

She made a sound of agreement and rose up on her toes to cover his smiling mouth with hers, which he allowed for approximately ten seconds before pulling her away.

"You aren't going to distract me."

She groaned and spun away from him, her knees bending as she mimed falling out through the door and into the main room before tumbling back onto the bed. Cullen followed her and came to stand between her knees, his legs brushing hers where they hung off the side.

"There are only five of them, if that helps."

She waved her arms in the air above her in mock excitement before dropping them out to her sides. "Don't tell me that. I can easily set five people on fire. Tell me there's fifty and the only way I can get to lunch is by stroking each of their egos."

She slid her eyes closed as he smiled at her and felt him reach down to take her hands. She let him pull her up to a sitting position, but kept her eyes shut as she heard him move off again.

There was silence for a bit before she heard him return and felt the familiar weight of her outer robe pulled around her. He waited as she slid her arms into the sleeves and then lifted her to her feet.

She finally opened her eyes when he simply stood there with her hands tucked into his, and offered him a smile. "If I stand here long enough will you carry me down?"

His lips twitched and he gave a shake of his head. "No. It would hardly look heroic for the Inquisitor to be carried around."

"I've never been the heroic sort."

He studied her a moment before giving a nod. "That's true." With a suddenness she wasn't expecting he crouched to grab at the back of her knees and then hefted her over his shoulder.

His name came out as a squeak as he started across the room, and he ignored it as they started down the stairs.

"This isn't what I meant," she shouted even as she began to wiggle in an attempt to get down.

He simply clamped his arms tighter around her legs and hips and continued their decent. "You really should learn to be more specific then."

"I'm going to freeze you to the floor!"

"You aren't that good with ice."

She didn't bother answering, instead using her energy to smack at his back and wiggle more in an attempt to free herself. By the time he reached the second landing they were both breathless from the struggle.

She could hear him laughing as he stopped walking to pull her from his shoulder and into his arms properly, and she waited until he had her settled before lifted a hand to punch him in the chest.

The ineffectual attempt at harm only seemed to make him laugh harder and shift her so he could press his face into her neck.

She had just rolled her eyes and, seeing the humor of it, started to smile when she felt his head shift so that his lips brushed over her ear.

She had started to turn her head towards his when his laugh stumbled to a stop with a, very undignified, snort.

She laughed at the utter ridiculousness of the sound before a memory came to her and she froze.

She put her hands to his chest and used them to lean back and look at him, wariness creeping into her thoughts even as he lifted his head to meet her gaze.

"Did you just snort?"

He gave a nod and moved to set her on her feet, all the while keeping eye contact with her, though his face was carefully blank. "I did."

"Oh."

He placed his hands on her elbows and steadied her before speaking again.

"If I recall correctly, I think you said you would have to marry me if I did that. It was a long time ago though, so maybe I'm remembering it wrong."

She could hear her blood rushing in her ears, and couldn't seem to make herself reply; instead she just continued to stare at him.

He dropped his hands and she watched as he patted at himself a moment before digging into a pocket and pulling something out. When he turned back to face her she could see that he was holding a simple silver ring in his fingers. "You said it would have to be a marriage like "us Chantry people" do, so you will need a ring."

When she continued to simply stare at him he shifted uncomfortably. "If-If you want it."

She was sure she should be saying something, anything, but all her words seemed caught in her throat as she shifted her attention from his face to the ring and back again. This was important, she knew that, and she needed to speak, but when she finally managed to choke something out it sounded far more confused than she meant for it to.

"You… got me a ring?"

"I had Dagna make it. She did something to it that I don't understand that will help keep you protected while you're fighting, or so she says. I wanted you to have something you didn't have to worry about switching out when you were in the field."

It seemed she had expended the words she was allowed to say because she could only stare at him again, and she could feel her fingers flexing into her palms which seemed far too wet to be normal. He had had Dagna make her a ring that would protect her while she was fighting. He would think of such things, of course he would.

He stared back at her for a few seconds before moving his gaze away, his hand dropping a bit. "This… um… was a really bad idea wasn't it? I- I wasn't going to ask you now, but, uh, it just came out, and… I had picked this up earlier today so it was in my pocket… and… and just forget I said anything."

He started to step away, the ring disappearing into a fist, which apparently was what it finally took for her to snap out of her thoughts.

"Wait!" She grabbed at his hand with both of hers, prying it open with her fingers so that the ring sat revealed between them again. "You- You're taking it back?"

Confusion was clear on his face when he answered her. "You want it?"

"You said you had it made for me. So that means it's mine, right?"

His nod was slow, as if he wasn't really sure it was the correct response. "Yes."

"So I want it." She lifted the ring and studied it, finally noticing the etchings in the surface.

They were stylized and flowing, but they definitely formed a profile that was reminiscent of Cullen's lion helmet with a small amber stone set as its eye.

She felt her cheeks flush at the implication that she would be wearing something that was so very clearly marked for him and kept her head down as she spoke again. "It's beautiful."

"Just… just so I-um… uh… Are you just wanting the ring or-" She could hear the uncertainty laced through his words even as he trailed off, and forced herself to look up at him.

She still knew that there was a lot she should say, but she had never been good at the feelings part of their relationship. She also knew that there was a vast difference between sleeping with someone, even telling them you love them, and agreeing to spend the rest of your life with them.

Especially when you were an elf and a human, or a mage and an ex-templar.

"You want to marry a Dalish elven mage?" She made a point to add everything that made her different from him, her fingers curling around the ring in her hand, half afraid he would decide to take it back after all.

His face cleared at her question and his hand came up to play at the short tips of her hair. "I want to marry you. I'd want to marry you even if you were a seven foot tall qunari who was a stout follower of the Qun."

She couldn't help the laugh that came out at that, even as she looked away again. "I'm serious. There's no guarantee that I will always be the Inquisitor, and when I'm not anymore you are going to be married to an elven mage. It won't be easy, not everyone is as race blind as you apparently are, and if things for mages don't change people will never stop fearing us. I'm used to people treating me that way, I can ignore it, but you would have it wor-"

She felt his hands come up to her jaw and his lips cut off her words. She relaxed as she felt his mouth smiling against hers before he pulled away again. "I don't care. I want to marry you, I have for a long time but I promised myself I wouldn't even consider asking until Corypheus was dealt with. I want to spend my life with you, whether it's here or me chasing after you in the woods because you decide to rejoin your clan. And I desperately want to be able to tell any more nobles who ask if I'm married that I am, and they are more than welcome to take it up with my wife."

He had always been better at this part, and it was easy to return his smile as he finished talking because he always knew exactly what to say when he stopped fumbling over his anxieties.

"I'm not saying we have to get married today, I just… I just wanted to ask, we can figure out the rest as we go."

"Seems like the story of our entire relationship."

"Well, it's worked for us so far."

He leaned in to kiss her again, his hands moving to hers where they took the ring from her grasp and pushed it onto her finger.

"So, you never really answered. Will you be my wife, eventually?"

She followed his lips to share another kiss before she looked down at the gleaming metal and stone on her hand. "Yes, but I have a feeling it will be sooner rather than later when the others hear about this."

"You're probably right."

She tilted herself into his chest, her hands going around to grip at the back of his coat. "You do realize you aren't going to get me out of this room now until I take you upstairs and strip this very nice outfit off of you so I can have my way with you, right?"

His breath was a warm ruffle through her hair as he laughed and smoothed his hands over her arms. "I'll be sure to apologize to Josephine personally. I think she will forgive us being late under the circumstances."

She tilted her head back to smile at him before stepping away and taking his hand, drawing him back up the stairs. "I'll just let her know that she can decorate for any ceremony we have. That should placate her."

"You're a shrewd observer, Inquisitor. I'm lucky to have found you."

They reached the main room again and she gave him a playful shove towards the bed, climbing over him when he settled back onto it. "You're about to get a lot luckier."

"Oh. Good."


	28. Morning

**Not safe for work. Nope. Just a warning. ^.^**

* * *

><p>"I want you to touch yourself. I want you to show me what you want me to do to you."<p>

She blew out a harsh breath at the words, her body straining towards the fingers that ghosted over her the skin of her stomach. He had trailed them up from her center, the tips leaving wet trails across her skin that left a tingling as they cooled.

He laughed softly near her ear at her attempt to get closer to his roving hand and pulled it away completely, the other leaving where it had been pinning her wrists above her head.

"Do it, Tirnel. If you want to continue I want you to show me."

After a groan of annoyance she lowered her arms, letting her hands move over skin that was too sensitive from his teasing. She flicked her fingers over her nipples, catching the taut peaks and pulling at them until her hips wiggled in response, and her breath came faster.

She could feel his eyes on her; feel his hand where it laid passively on her arm as he leaned over her, just close enough to let her feel the heat that so often radiated from him. Shifting more towards him she made an annoyed sound when he countered by sliding away.

"Talk to me."

His voice was a whisper over her skin and she arched again at the sound of it.

It never occurred to her to not do as he instructed.

"I want you to do this. I want to feel your hands on me, your teeth. I dream about it sometimes." Her voice sounded strange to her own ears, wispy and wanting, and not at all like she sounded even when he was moving inside of her.

"What do I do in your dreams?"

She told him, her hands wandering down from her nipples and over her stomach, her mind drifting to those early morning thoughts that never failed to leave her wanting.

Her voice trailed off as her hands reached her center and the wet, wanting heat there. She wasted no time with sliding a finger from on hand inside of her, curling and pumping it so that it brushed over the spot that made her writhe. The other took a more leisurely path before circling the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex, slowly moving closer until she was gliding over it in a steady pattern that had her legs tightening and her toes curling.

She heard herself moan as the pleasure grew and she tried to form words through the haze. "I dream about your mouth being where my hands are, your tongue di-dipping in..ah.. inside me. Over and Over."

She was vaguely aware of him shifting again and then his lips were brushing her ear, his teeth skimming the point of it and causing her to whimper. "I want to see you come."

The rumbled words had her clinching her muscles, her hands quickening their pace until she was moments from the edge.

"Cullen…"

"Let go, Nell. Let me see you."

She called out as pleasure filled and swallowed her, and she was vaguely aware of her feet shoving into the mattress and her head tilting back as his lips traced over her cheek.

She was still riding the pleasure of it as she felt him leave her side and move over her and down, his shoulders pressing into her thighs and spreading them apart even as his hands clamped around her hips.

"Again."

The words were muffled against her flesh and she barely had time to cry out as he lathed his tongue over her slit while her nerves still jangled from her release.

He dipped his tongue into her, lapping up the juices that had collected there before sliding his lips over her folds and to the swollen peak that nestled between them. Finding it, he grazed with his teeth, causing her knees to clutch around his head, before pulling back to run his tongue over it as he slid a finger into her waiting warmth.

He coaxed her through the aftershocks of her first release and began to build the pleasure again, his tongue matching the steady rhythm of his fingers. He brought her back to the cusp and then slowed, his touch becoming light and causing her to call out, her hands reaching down to clamp into his hair and give a useless tug.

She wasn't strong enough to pull him from his purpose, and if the smile she could feel was any indication, he knew it.

And she knew that he wanted her to beg.

She didn't at first. She always did her best to not give in, to try at tempting him to overcome his own self-control and simply give her what they both wanted, but it only worked part of the time, and when he was focused… hardly ever.

She lifted her feet to press them into his shoulders, her fingers flexing in his hair until words finally tumbled from her, the actual meaning of them lost in a babble of need.

She felt him grin again as he reapplied the pressure of his mouth and hands, bringing her back to the edge and then tumbling over it.

He was up and over her before the first wave had even finished, sliding into her clenching muscles and causing her to sob at the over stimulation.

He set a steady pass, coaxing her through her tremors and back up again.

His hands buried in her hair when she gave an exhausted whimper, and he set his lips over hers as he eased in and out of her at a steady pace.

"Cullen…" She could barely get any more out, her sweat soaked fingers sliding over the skin of his back as it bunched with his movements. "I can't…"

"You can."

He drew in and out of her slowly, coaxing and teasing until she was moaning into his neck. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her feet digging into the soft flesh of his backside.

It continued longer than she thought possible, the sounds from both of them mixing in the space between them.

When he finally decided to increase his pace, she could feel her limbs trembling.

He brought her over one last time, finally following himself, his fingers clutching at her scalp, the twinges of pain adding to her pleasure.

Ever the gentleman, he didn't collapse on top of her, instead rolling to his back, and folding her onto his chest.

They stayed like that for several minutes, the morning chill from the open doors washing over them until he reached blindly for the blanket and covered them both. It left them in a strange cocoon of sweat and sex, the smell not entirely unpleasant, especially when the scent of lemon, which had worked into her fingers from his hair, joined them.

He buried his face in her hair, his fingers gliding over her back, and let out a contented sigh before speaking again. "Are you alright?"

She smiled into his chest and tilted her head until she could smile at him. "No." When his brows lowered, her smile widened. "I'm not alright, I'm wonderful. Amazing, "

She heard him chuckle and let her smile widen. "You'll have to let me return the favor sometime."

He lifted a hand to run through her hair and continue down until it smoothed over her legs. "Could I stop you?"

"Would you want to?"

He smiled and nipped at her ear again, seeming to enjoy the tremor it caused. "No. Not at all."


	29. Snort Redux

**"Snort" told from Cullen's point of view. ^.^**

* * *

><p>He patted his pocket in a nervous gesture as he made his way up the stairs, checking that the small band of metal that Dagna had just given him was still tucked safely away.<p>

After a few more steps he repeated the action.

He made himself drop his hand. It wasn't going to go anywhere, not by simply walking across the main hall, and he was going to have the chance to put it away safely when he got to their room, someplace it wouldn't get lost until he decided to use it.

He still wasn't sure about that.

He had asked Dagna about making it a few days after Corypheus had been defeated, impatient to have it done, but he had no actual plans to use it until he could come up with the best way to present the idea to her.

Not that he was even sure she was interested in marriage. She had joked about… but that didn't mean it was something she had seriously thought about doing.

With him.

He lifted a hand to massage at his neck, his thoughts darkening as he rounded the top of the steps into the main room of their quarters, his eyes doing a quick scan for her.

It was amazing how quickly his mind cleared when his gaze settled on the lump in the bed.

Of course she was still asleep. Why would he ever have assumed otherwise?

The ring forgotten in his pocket, he moved towards the bed until he could make out the reddish brown tufts of hair that stuck out from the cocoon she had wrapped herself in. She had moved to his side of the bed, a consistent habit after he left each morning that never failed to make him smile, and was so enmeshed in the blanket around her that it took him a few moments to discern where an end was so he could grab it.

He gave a few tugs until the top half of her head was free and the tattoo lines across her forehead were wrinkled together in sleepy dismay. He thought she might look at him after that but she turned her face into the pillow instead.

He smiled at the attempt to ignore him and gave another few tugs, revealing her chin and the tips of her shoulders.

"Nell."

Her voice was muffled when she spoke, and obviously annoyed. "Go away."

"It's nearly noon."

"I killed a darkspawn magister, I am allowed to sleep until noon."

He chuckled at that, since it was the same excuse she had been using for nearly a week, and tugged at the blanket again until her chest was visible. "That was over two weeks ago. Josephine has informed me that have spent enough time holed up, and you have to come and meet with the nobles who have arrived whether you want to or not."

When she made a few more sounds he continued. "She also told me to tell you that you have to act friendly."

That seemed to catch her attention and she rolled onto her back with a groan, her eyes squinting open to look at him as her fingers wrapped around the blanket to try and pull it back up.

He simply raised a brow at her when she pursed her lips and waited until she added, "I'm always friendly".

His eyes widened at the statement before he burst out a laugh. He might believe that if he hadn't once heard her tell a Comte that he was a vile piece of filth with his own ears.

"Go ahead, pull the other one."

She had started to smile when he laughed and she scrubbed a hand over her chin as it widened. "Well, I'm not mean."

They both continued to smile for a few seconds before she gave an exaggerated sigh and shoved the blankets off of her. He watched as she tumbled herself out of the bed, her hands reaching up to scrub through her hair. "Fine. Fine."

She staggered past him and into the changing room, mumbling something about him having to go with her, while he made a halfhearted attempt to right the covers on the bed so that they at least somewhat resembled being made up.

By the time he made his way to the door of the room she had already scrubbed water over her face and through her hair and was sliding into her under armor.

He wasn't surprised she wanted to dress in her battle robes to meet with the nobles. She liked to think it made her look more intimidating.

It usually didn't, but who was he to ruin the illusion?

"I have work I need to do with the troops that are about to head out."

She frowned as her hands worked together the buttons of her top, annoyance flashing in the dark purple of her eyes. "I wasn't aware of any troop movement."

"Because you've been holed up for the past two weeks."

She made a face even as she moved towards him, her hands coming up to brace against his arms so that she could push up and kiss his chin. "Don't act like you weren't holed up here with me most of the time."

Oh no, he definitely remembered, and had enjoyed every relaxed moment of it. It had been something new for them both, not having set in stone time constraints.

He slid his arms around her waist, intent on telling her as much, when she abruptly pulled back a look of confusion on her face.

"What are you wearing?

He immediately dropped his hands from where they still rested on her sides and, unsure what else to do, gave a quick tug at the hem of his jacket, his gaze moving to the washstand.

He had really been hoping she would be too tired to notice. He should have known better.

"Clothes, why?"

"You aren't wearing your armor."

"I don't always wear armor."

He could see the look of blatant skepticism she shot him out of the corner of his eye as she replied. "Yes you do."

He found himself rubbing at his neck again, unable to help the nervous habit, even as he looked back to her with a frown. "I was informed that now that Corypheus has been defeated I have to look less… formidable when dealing with our guests. Apparently it gives a bad impression to look serious and be wearing armor all the time."

By the time he finished speaking she looked far too much like a cat that had gotten into the cream, and when she replied he could hear the tremor of humor in her voice. "Josephine is making you dress up for the nobles?" When he simply continued to frown, her laugh slipped out and she moved back to him, her hands smoothing up and over his back. "If it helps, I like the idea of easier access to you."

He couldn't help the smile that followed the almost immediate idea that he couldn't fault ease of access either. "Is that so?"

She made some sound in her throat and rose to her toes to kiss him.

He wanted to deepen it, wanted to forget their duties and simply enjoy her, but both of them had work to do so he gave a mental groan and pulled away from her. "You aren't going to distract me."

Her groan was far more vocal and she spun away from him and out the door with an over done swoon. He followed her, amused, as she landed back on the bed, her legs dangling off the side, and came to stand between them. "There are only five of them, if that helps."

She waved her arms above her before flinging them out to her sides. "Don't tell me that. I can easily set five people on fire. Tell me there's fifty and the only way I can get to lunch is by stroking each of their egos."

He smiled at the idea, watching as she closed her eyes again. Seeing nothing else for it, and knowing this game well, he reached forward and hauled her to a sitting position by her hands. When she was upright again, he left to retrieve her outer robe and brought it back to place around her. When she had slid her arms into it he took her hands again, pulling her up to stand in front of him.

Since her eyes were still closed, he took a moment to study her, his fingers flexing around hers as he did so. She had an amused quirk to her lips, and her head was tilted back as if she expected him to kiss her. When he didn't she opened her eyes again and spoke. "If I stand here long enough will you carry me down?"

"No. It would hardly look heroic for the Inquisitor to be carried around," he replied, humor lacing his voice.

She rolled her eyes at the answer and leaned a bit more into him. "I've never been the heroic sort."

He couldn't argue that. "That's true," he stated instead, an idea forming in his mind that would both amuse him and get her to where she needed to be. So when she started to smile at his words, he dipped down and grabbed her around her knees, lifting until she fell unceremoniously over his shoulder and clamping his arms around her hips and legs.

He started out of the room, ignoring the yelp of protest she gave. When she started wiggling he simply tightened his grip.

"This isn't what I meant!"

"You really should learn to be more specific then."

"I'm going to freeze you to the floor."

It was an empty threat and they both knew it, she had always excelled at fire magic, but her ability to ice was limited to freezing water or creating half solid lumps.

"You aren't that good with ice."

She didn't seem interested in arguing that, probably because she knew he was right, but she did start slapping at his back and wiggling her hips enough to hit him solidly in the side of the head a few times.

He had to focus to keep ahold of her, amusing spiraling through him at the picture they probably made. He couldn't help the laugh that came out any more then he could help laughing harder when he came to a stop and dropped her into his arms and she punched him.

The angle was off for any solid weight behind it, and she had never been the most physically strong person.

He buried his face in her neck, muffling the sounds of his laughter against her skin.

He didn't know what it was about the whole situation, but he suddenly didn't want to wait for the right time to give her the ring he still carried, didn't want to wait to set up some orchestrated moment where everything had to be perfect, because it probably wouldn't be. They never managed to get perfect down right.

A moment came to him, one of the many he had stored in his memory since he had met her.

_"If you ever snort when you laugh I'll have to marry you."_

He didn't let himself think about it. He over thought too much, especially when it came to her. Instead, he tilted his face so that his lips ghosted over her ear and made a point to end his laugh on the most obvious snort he could think of.

It made him feel slightly ridiculous, but if it worked it would well be worth it.

He knew the moment she remembered her own words because she froze against him before slowly pushing herself back so she could look at his face, her expression somewhere between wariness and confusion.

"Did you just snort?"

He thought it would probably be better if they were both standing, and gave a nod as he set her feet on the ground, his hands coming up to steady her when she wobbled slightly. "I did."

"Oh."

"If I recall correctly, I think you said you would have to marry me if I did that. It was a long time ago though, so maybe I'm remembering it wrong."

He kept his face blank, unsure how to take her look of uncertainty, and dropped his hands from her so that he could find the ring, which he suddenly couldn't remember which pocket he had put it in. He patted at himself until he found it then drew it out. "You said it would have to be a marriage like 'us Chantry people' do, so you will need a ring."

He held the ring out to her, and watched as her mouth dropped open a bit and her eyes widened. She didn't try to take it though, simply continued to stare at him in silence. It made worry trickle down his spine and he shifted against the feel of it. "If-If you want it."

She stared at him another moment before words came rushing out, sounding choked and not a little terrified. "You… got me a ring?"

"I had Dagna make it. She did something to it that I don't understand that will help keep you protected while you're fighting, or so she says. I wanted you to have something you didn't have to worry about switching out when you were in the field." He forced his voice to remain steady as he replied to her, despite feeling sweat pool uncomfortably around his collar.

She went back to staring between him and the ring respectively, and he wanted to punch himself. This had been a terrible idea. He should have known better. She was Dalish, of course she wouldn't want to marry under some Chantry law. Not to mention she was the Inquisitor and he was her Commander and even with Corypheus defeated they both had more important things to worry about.

And why would she want to tie herself to him when he still had so many things he was trying to work through? The thought tugged at the back of his mind and he couldn't banish it. Marriage was just another tie, and she had already given him enough, she needed to be able to keep an out that didn't involve the complications of marriage and he couldn't blame her for that.

He should have known better.

Now he just hoped he could fix it without losing her completely.

He looked away and dropped his hand lower, his thoughts whirling in a dark cloud. "This… um… was a really bad idea wasn't it? I- I wasn't going to ask you now, but, uh, it just came out, and… I had picked this up earlier today so it was in my pocket… and… and just forget I said anything."

He started to turn away, folding the ring into his hand so neither of them had to look at it, when she grabbed at him.

"Wait!" She pried his hand open so that the ring was revealed again. "You- You're taking it back?"

There was a panicked edge to her voice, and her grip on his hand was almost painful even as she stared up at him wide eyed.

Wait… what?

"You want it?"

Her fingers managed to tighten even more somehow, and her voice had risen and her words were tight when she spoke again. "You said you had it made for me. So that means it's mine, right?"

She… she wanted it? Still unsure of himself he nodded slowly. "Yes."

"So I want it." She practically snatched the ring from his palm then turned it over and over in her fingers for a few moments. He worried that she wouldn't like the detail on it, or the fact that it was a lion. He wasn't even sure if he liked it. Harritt had done the design and all he had been able to get him to say about it was "Seemed appropriate" before he had grumbled at him and Dagna both and moved off.

Dagna had giggled and agreed leaving him blushing and fidgety and quick to take his leave.

"It's beautiful."

Her words drew him back and he felt his brows lower because he still wasn't sure what to make of what she was saying. "Just… just so I-um…uh…" He took a breath, annoyed that he was having such a hard time getting the words out. It was too important though, and he was too afraid of the answer. "Are you just wanting the ring or-" He trailed off again, giving up when she looked up from the ring to him. She still looked terrified; he wondered if she knew that.

"You want to marry a Dalish elven mage?" Her voice had gone quiet with the words, and he watched as she curled her fingers around the ring and pulled it closer to her body as if she was afraid he was going to take it from her.

The gesture steadied him, and he lifted a cautious hand to play at the tips of her hair in an attempt to settle her. "I want to marry you. I'd want to marry you even if you were a seven foot tall qunari who was a stout follower of the Qun."

She leaned towards his hand and laughed, even as her gaze moved away. After a few seconds her features clouded again and he watched as her brow furrowed. "I'm serious. There's no guarantee that I will always be the Inquisitor, and when I'm not anymore you are going to be married to an elven mage. It won't be easy, not everyone is as race blind as you apparently are, and if things for mages don't change people will never stop fearing us. I'm used to people treating me that way, I can ignore it, but you would have it wor-"

He moved his hands to her jaw, thumbs reaching up to brush over the tips of her vallaslin as she spoke, her words tumbling faster as her shoulders hunched tightly. He didn't want her to ever think such things. It didn't matter to him what anyone else might say, it would be their loss not his. How could she think that what anyone else thought would ever be more important to him then her?

He used his lips to cut off the words of worry. Maybe it did make sense, she had dealt with it all her life, and who was he to tell her that she was being foolish. It didn't change anything however, and the thought calmed his mind. He hadn't doubted his feelings for her in a very long time, and her uncertainty with such things always seemed to steady him more.

He smiled against her mouth before pulling away. "I don't care. I want to marry you, I have for a long time but I promised myself I wouldn't even consider asking until Corypheus was dealt with. I want to spend my life with you, whether it's here or me chasing after you in the woods because you decide to rejoin your clan. And I desperately want to be able to tell any more nobles who ask if I'm married that I am, and they are more than welcome to take it up with my wife."

His thumbs brushed her cheeks again when she returned his smile, relief obvious in the way her whole body seemed to relax. "I'm not saying we have to get married today, I just… I just wanted to ask, we can figure out the rest as we go."

"Seems like the story of our entire relationship."

It did, and that observation made him smile more. "Well, it's worked for us so far." He leaned in to kiss her again even as he reached down to her still clenched hand. He worked the ring out of it and then slid it over the knuckles of her finger until it rested at the base. "So, you never really answered. Will you be my wife, eventually?"

It was her turn to kiss him this time, which she did before looking down at where the ring rested on her hand. "Yes, but I have a feeling it will be sooner rather than later when the others hear about this."

He wanted to shout. He wanted to scoop her up and spin her around until they were both dizzy, but she was still her, and he was still him, and so instead he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and drew in an amused breath. "You're probably right."

She pressed herself into his chest a moment, her hands gripping at his back while he buried his nose in her hair, feeling more thankful than he had in his entire life. Every hard moment when he wasn't sure he was strong enough to continue, every remembered bad memory of his past, if it lead to this, to her, he could endure it.

She was blunt, and annoying, and she poked and prodded, and she slept more than any normal person should, and she was the leader of the Inquisition so would never belong completely to herself. But she smelled like a campfire in the snow, and rubbed his temples when he had a headache, and made him laugh.

He was very sure he was the luckiest man in Thedas.

"You do realize you aren't going to get me out of this room now until I take you upstairs and strip this very nice outfit off of you so I can have my way with you, right?"

Her words beat against his chest and had him laughing. He no longer cared about keeping up appearances, or being on time. He wanted to ride out this moment, this feeling, for as long as he could. "I'll be sure to apologize to Josephine personally. I think she will forgive us being late under the circumstances."

She tilted her head back to smile at him before stepping away and taking his hand, drawing him back up the stairs. "I'll just let her know that she can decorate for any ceremony we have. That should placate her."

"You're a shrewd observer, Inquisitor. I'm lucky to have found you."

They reached the main room again and she gave him a playful shove towards the bed, climbing over him when he settled back onto it. "You're about to get a lot luckier."

He let his hands slide over her thighs, lifting his head just enough to smooth his lips over the armor padded slope of her shoulder.

"Oh. Good."


	30. I Can Make You Tell Me

She had gotten him to sit on the couch with her, and she was still pleased with herself that she had talked him into putting a couch in his office, but he was anything but relaxed.

She lifted her eyes to watch him drum his fingers on his leg even as she turned another page in her book. When he made to stand up she shifted enough to slide her legs over his lap, stilling his movements.

"Where are you going?"

The frown that had formed on his face turned towards her and he tapped his leg again. "Sera has been in here. I know it."

She raised a brow for a moment then looked back down at her book. "Lot's of people come in here, Cullen. That's the problem with saying your door is open to everyone."

"But she did something." He made another restless movement and almost looked like he was going to push her legs away but changed his mind at the last moment, instead narrowing his eyes and scanning the room. "When I find out what it is I'm going to…" He lifted an arm and waved his hand haphazardly. "Do something back."

She managed to halt her laugh, but not the smile she could feel curling her lips as she stayed focused on her book. "Eloquent."

"You talk to her all the time, do you know anything about it?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes."

She could feel him staring at her, she turned another page.

"You know she did something in here."

"Yes."

"Are you going to tell me what?"

"Probably not."

He shifted and she glanced up to see that he was facing her more fully, his brows drawn low. She looked back down.

"I think I should go for the obvious and ask why."

"Because it's funny?"

The book was snatched from her hands and she looked at him just in time to watch him set it on the side table before circling her calves with his hands. "I could probably make you tell me."

A laugh did escape this time as she watched him smooth his hands down to her ankles. "You are certainly welcome to try."

He stared at her for a few seconds before giving a jerk to her legs, pulling her closer and subsequently causing her to fall back onto the couch cushions. Before she could right herself he had settled himself over her, stopping her movements and effectively boxing her in.

Since he was in his armor, as always, there was little she could do besides grip at his outer robes as he lowered his mouth to hers.

Not that she was complaining about that.

His fingers played over the fabric of her shirt, the ghosting touch teasing as his mouth skimmed down to her throat, his tongue trailing against her skin and causing her to squirm under him.

She couldn't help thinking that she was going to greatly enjoy his efforts even as she let out a laughing breath. "You'll have to try harder than that."

A hand wandered down and under her shirt, sliding over her skin and up between her shoulder blades, arching her into him.

"Well, if I must."

She said his name as he lifted his mouth back to hers, his teeth biting at her lower lip before his tongue slid over hers.

The knock on the door had them both pulling back, and him burying his face in her neck before he lifted himself off her completely, a grumbled "Of course" ground out under his breath.

She watched as he stood from the couch, taking a minute to straighten himself before moving to the door and opening it.

She wasn't surprised to see Josephine, not many others would have bothered with the courtesy of knocking before simply walking in, so she reached over to grab her book and settled back into the corner of the couch as Cullen brought the ambassador into the office.

Josephine stopped as she saw her, and offered a slight curtsy. "My Lady, am I interrupting anything?"

She waved the question off and settled the book into her lap. "Not at all."

"I was talking with the Inquisitor about Sera."

Josephine scrunched her face in annoyance and sent a pointed look to Nell. "Don't tell me you helped her do something in here also."

"Helped?"

She looked back at Cullen and rolled her eyes. "They thought it would be funny to place a bucket of water over the door to my office."

Nell slid from the couch and moved to the door, offered a wave as she went. "I told you, Josie, I didn't help, I just… offered moral support. Anyway, I'll let you two talk, I'm sure I'll see you at dinner."

"Inquisitor."

Cullen's voice stopped her, and she glanced back even as her hand closed around the door handle. "Yes, Commander?"

"We'll finish our discussion later."

His words sent a thrill down her spin and she gave him a tilted smile before stepping out and pulling the door shut behind her. Safely on the battlements she leaned against the door, her smile widening.

She couldn't wait.


	31. I'm Sorry

"They are getting better."

The words drew his attention to his side where the Herald stood. He hadn't heard her come up, but he wasn't surprised. She had come to him earlier in the week with concerns about her fighting. She had never fought Templars before, had never really fought anything before, and she wanted to work on it before she had to head to the Hinterlands once Scout Harding finally reported in.

So she had been there everyday since, sparing with Lysette for the better part of the morning before announcing, like dwarven clockwork, that she was going to take a nap. After which she would disappear until dinner.

He wasn't sure if she actually napped, but her fighting was getting better, and Lysette was surprisingly positive about letting a mage lob fireballs at her face for hours.

What did surprise him was that she was still there after her morning training, sweat still visible on her face and her hair plastered to her brow, when she usually spoke to him before starting at all. She leaned against her staff, smiling, as she watched the recruits fighting around them.

"Yes, they are."

She shifted her gaze to him, curious, as he called out to one of the fighters to adjust his sword grip. "I wanted to talk to you."

He noted another recruit who was showing particular promise before returning his attention to her. "Yes, My Lady?"

"I've talked to Lysette about it, but she simply shrugged and said to ask you."

"Oh?"

She shifted to face him more fully, her smile still in place. "I was curious as to if you, as Templars, have a block for multiple attacks."

He could feel his brows lower in confusion. "You mean when we fight multiple mages at once?"

"No. When one mage sends more than one bolt at a time from different directions. Like this."

She stepped back, her staff lifting and falling in a lazy movement, sending a volley of three orange orbs at him from either side and above.

He wasn't really sure what happened after that. He knew that he blocked one of the orbs with the shield in his hand while the others hit his armor with soft thuds, and his attention narrowed down to himself and the dull glow they left on his arm and shoulder. There wasn't any real energy behind them, of course there wasn't, they were hardly more than lights, but when he focused back on the world around him he realized that he had drawn his sword and had it half raised at the mage in front of him.

She was staring at him wide eyed, her staff tilted across her as if she was going to block his attack. He cursed under his breath at the sight of it and turned away from her, his sword arm dropping to his side.

He could feel his heart beating too hard in his chest, his breath rushing painfully past his throat. He counted to ten, then did so again before turning back to her and watching as she carefully attached her staff to her back, almost as if she was afraid to move to quickly.

"My Lady, I apologize. You took me by surprise." He ground the words out before re-sheathing his sword, his newly free hand coming up to rub over his temple and the scramble of thoughts that rioted there.

"Commander, I-"

He cut her words off with a gesture, before flexing his fingers around the strap of his shield. "I really need to get back to the recruits."

He turned away from her again, even as his body screamed not to turn his back on her, and forced straining muscles to stay still until he finally heard her move away.

It was hours later before he saw her again. He had settled at a corner table in the tavern, the steaming bowl of stew that sat before him doing it's best to tempt his appetite, even as his head reminded him that it had other plans.

He had just decided to give up on dinner when a shadow fell over the table. He looked up to see the Herald standing behind the other chair. She was dressed in a loose top and breeches, her weapon nowhere in sight, and her hands were clasped in front of her.

He wondered if this was her attempt to not look intimidating.

When he started to speak she held up her hands then pulled out the chair to slide into it.

"Don't say anything. I have a hard enough time with this kind of thing as it is. I wanted to apologize for earlier."

"You don't-"

"I do. I never should have done that. I was still in fighting mode, and I should have told you what I meant instead of simply attacking you. It was wrong and I apologize. I don't think sometimes… I'm trying to be better about it."

He stared at her a moment, the worry clear on her face, like she thought he might chastise her. Instead he shook his head.

"My Lady, you have nothing to apologize for. I shouldn't have reacted like that. I'm the commander of our forces and I shouldn't react so blindly." He rolled his spoon around in his hand a moment before continuing, his gaze moving to the fire. "There are things I have been-"

"Stop." She lifted her hands again, drawing his attention back to her. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. It's obviously something that makes you uncomfortable, and I promise I'll try not to put you in such a position again." She dropped her hands to her lap and sent him a tentative smile. "So… that's all I wanted to say. I understand if you don't want me around anymore. I can find somewhere else to practice of a morning."

He blinked at her, thoughts jumbling a moment before he realized what she was saying. "No, no of course not, My Lady. You need others there to let you know what needs to be worked on."

Her smile widened a bit, and she held a hand out to him. "So we forgive each other, since we both seem so set on apologizing?"

He studied her hand, unease tickling the back of his mind that he forced himself to ignore. He would do better, he would. Finally, he lifted his hand and took hers, noting the callouses on her palm before they shook once and she pulled away. "Of course."

She tilting her head to side, apparently still tentative. "Would you mind if I joined you for dinner?"

"I would…" He trailed off, but forced himself to continue. She had made a step towards at least a comfortable comradery, one that didn't involve telling him how pretty he was, and he had no real reason, besides old hatreds, to rebuff her. "I would like that."

She smiled again before stating that she would be right back and stood to find her own bowl of food.


	32. Her Name

She woke with start, her hands shooting out to grip at air as she remembered, belatedly, that she was on a table, and there was nothing at her sides to grab.

She blinked a few times as she steadied herself then looked up to two sets of eyes, one of which seemed very uncertain, and the other which seemed far too amused. She cleared her throat as she returned the looks and folded her hands into her lap.

It came back to her that she was in Cullen's office, and that he had been working on paperwork, and she had just planned to close her eyes for a minute because it had been warm and quiet and... Dammit, how long had she been asleep?

While Cullen continued to send her an amused stare the soldier who's entrance had woken her stumbled into a stuttered bow and twisted her fingers together. "Your Worship, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

Nell waved her off, a smile forming. "It's my own fault. You'd think I would have learned to stop sleeping on tables by now." When the woman simply kept staring at her she waved her hands again. "Please, don't stop on my account."

She settled back against the wall as Cullen and the soldier turned their attention back to each other and something that had to do with a contingent of soldiers who had reported in.

After the first mention of replacements she stopped paying attention.

Instead she focused on the Commander's hands. She had always liked them, though that might have been because she had only ever seen them gloved as they were at the moment. She watched the leather stretch as he pointed a finger to something on a paper and wondered about the skin underneath.

She imagined it would be calloused from his sword work and the nails would be short and clean, because he wasn't the type to not have perfectly groomed hands.

She wondered if there would be any scars, or if they would be extra pale because he always had them covered.

She wondered what they would feel like against her. Would they be gentle, would they be rough, would they feel like she had spent far to long imagining they would?

A laugh drew her attention from her thoughts, and she focused back on the pair by the desk, her interest peaking slightly as she watched the soldier lean closer to Cullen, her eyes not on the report but rather on his down turned face, well his mouth specifically.

She bit back a smile at the display, amused by the way the woman's face had turned pink when Cullen offered a smile to something she said. She could relate.

She did her best to ignore the other feeling that had risen alongside the humor, the one that wanted her to press herself in between them and snarl at the soldier like she was Josephine and the Commander was the last piece of chocolate.

Not her place. Not her place. The mantra did little to help.

When the meeting ended a few minutes later she waited until the door closed lightly behind the woman, leaving them alone once again, before speaking.

"That was adorable."

"Hmm?" Cullen glanced up from his desk, focusing on her as if he had just remembered she was there. "What?"

"Are you really so oblivious? That woman was enthralled by you," she stated, her smile widening. "If all your soldiers are like that it's no wonder that they are so loyal to you."

He stared at her, brows lowered in confusion, before shaking his head and picking up another report, focusing on it. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Cullen, she giggled at you. You were talking about guard rotations changing and she giggled. Soldier orders aren't that funny."

She continued to smile as she watched his brows furrow again as he looked at the recently closed door. "I can be funny."

"Were you trying to be funny?"

"No." He turned back to the reports, his features clearing before his lips tilting into the barest hint of a smile. "Huh."

Her eyes narrowed at the word, the chocolate protecting part of her surging forward again before she shoved it back down. She was not jealous of a blushing foot soldier who giggled at not funny things.

She wasn't.

"Well, I'm glad I could boost your confidence. She probably isn't too far away, you could still catch her if you wanted."

He shook his head and switched out reports. "A commander fraternizing with one of his soldiers wouldn't be appropriate."

She wasn't sure why that response annoyed her so much, but it did.

"Yes, we wouldn't want to be inappropriate... It's a silly rule you know. Not being with someone just because it might be frowned on."

He still didn't look up, his attention mostly on the papers in his hand. "It's too easy for people to get the wrong idea."

"The wrong idea?"

"Special treatment, that sort of thing. It's best to just avoid it."

"But you could be missing out on something important."

He gave a short laugh and switched reports again. "I doubt it."

He was only managing to annoy her more so she slid down from the table and started to head to the door.

"Are you leaving?"

"Yes."

There was a pause as her hand reached up for the handle, then his voice floated over to her, confused. "Why are you angry?"

"I'm not. I'm annoyed."

"Why?"

She curled her fingers into her palm and turned back to look at him. He had put down the papers and was staring at her. "I don't know."

He raised a brow and she frowned at him. "If you care about someone it shouldn't matter what their position is."

He only seemed more confused by the statement. "Who said anything about-"

"For all you know your... your soul mate or something could be one of the soldiers under your command, and you're going to completely miss them because of some stupid rule."

"I don't think that's the case."

"Well you wouldn't know would you. You aren't giving them the chance."

His eyes had narrowed to match hers, and he had shifted to face her more fully, his arms coming up to cross over his chest. "So, what? You want me to go roll around with a few of them and see if anything special tingles?"

"That's not what I said."

"What exactly are you wanting?"

"I don't know."

"Then why am I being yelled at?"

"I don't know," she repeated heatedly before catching herself, she hadn't even realized she had raised her voice. She was angry, and she wanted to make him angry and admit, what? That the only reason he wasn't rolling around with her was because of rules?

She was pathetic.

Scrubbing her hands over her face, she took a deep breath before speaking again. "I'm sorry, I don't... I need to go."

"Wait."

She heard him call after her, but she ignored it, instead dropping a hand to feel blindly for the door handle.

"Nell, wait."

The use of her name caused her to freeze, her fingers half wrapped around the iron of the handle. She heard him come around his desk, his voice drawing closer.

"Don't leave like this. I don't even know what we were arguing about. I'm not interested in any of my soldiers so I don't see the point in worrying about a rule that keeps me from being in a relationship with one of them. If anything I can use it to keep them from- What are you smiling at?" His voice turned questioning when he realized she had turned back to him, her lips stretching into a wide smile.

"You said my name."

He opened his mouth then shut it again, his arms recrossing. "Did I?"

"That's the first time you've ever said it."

"That's um... I didn't, uh, mean..." He cleared his throat and reached a hand up to rub at the back of his neck, a flush working over his cheeks.

She didn't even notice, she was still too caught up with having heard her name come from him after months of wishing it would. "Will you say it again?"

"I d-don't think that... that wouldn't-"

"Please."

He paused, his gaze fixed on the door behind her for what seemed like forever before he looked back at her face, a smile of his own forming to match hers. "Nell."

She could feel her cheeks heat, and for once she didn't even mind. "Thank you, Cullen. I like the sound of you saying it."

"Me too."

"I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"It's alright... Nell, I-" He paused and looked away, his face growing thoughtful. "I don't have a lot of time. The guards will be here any minute for a meeting... I should... I should get back to work."

Disappointment washed over her, but she forced herself to not let it show. Of course this wasn't the right time to talk about things, of course. "I shouldn't keep you then. I'll let you get back to work, Commander."

He offered a faint bow then reached past her to pull open the door, the lemon and polish smell of him washing around her before he stepped away again. "Thank you, Inquisitor."

She stepped out into the fading light of evening, and blinked a few times. It had been mid day when she went into Cullen's office. How long had she been asleep?

Shit, she was supposed to have met with Josephine and Leliana before dinner. They were going to kill her. She paused in her decent to Solas' office and glanced back at her commander's closed door, two words popping into her head.

Worth it.


	33. It was Different

It was different.

He had watched her leave countless times since she had first joined them in Haven. She was constantly needed to go and close rifts, or settle debates, or rescue someone. It was part of being the Herald, and later part of being the Inquisitor, and he was use to it.

He could admit now that he always missed her when she was away, worried for her, thought about what she might be doing far too often, but it was something that was easily pushed to the back of his mind because of duty and responsibilities, and all those other things that she would make a face at if he mentioned.

So he would be there with the others to see her off when she left, and he always enjoyed seeing her return, the wide smile she would send him, the way she would get just a little too close and ask him if he had missed her in that joking tone that made it easy to laugh off the worry that he didn't think was right to admit to.

But this time was different.

This time when she left there was something new between them, something small and unsure but there and more real than anything else he had ever experienced, and it was suddenly as if all those feelings he kept at the back of his mind while she was away were no longer content to be ignored.

He watched her leave as he usually did, his fingers itching to pull her towards him, to wrap her up and tell her to be safe, to come back to him. He wanted to kiss her just before she mounted her horse and rode away so that he could hold the feeling of her lips on his for as long as possible after she was out of sight.

But he couldn't. It wasn't right. She was the Inquisitor and he was the Commander and they needed to be professional in front of the Inquisition followers because that was what was expected.

It didn't help him feel any better to remind himself of that though, because she was his now, insofar as she could ever be anyone's, and he could lose her.

She could never come back from this mission and the last memory she would have of him, and he of her, would be a quick ghosting of a kiss in a side corridor before she had rushed away to ready her horse.

So he thought of her too often while she was gone, got asked too many times if he was paying attention, had to rewrite too many reports.

When Leliana came to him, a far too knowing look on her face, to let him know that the Inquisitor's party had been seen coming up the mountain path, he had thanked her, thanked her and then blew out a long breath because she was safe. She was back, and all of the worst things he had thought of had not come to pass.

He made himself linger before going to the courtyard, made himself stand beside the other Advisors as the gates were raised and the small party of riders filed in.

His eyes searched her out and locked on as she slid from her horse and glanced around. When she met his gaze she smiled. It was just as wide as it ever was, and he felt himself settle, suddenly realizing how very much he had needed to see her.

She made her way towards them, and he braced for the too close standing, the humored words. What he wasn't prepared for was the way she grabbed his face, pulling him forward until their lips met and slanted against each other. His hands came up automatically, curling against her waist before drawing her closer.

It lasted only a handful of seconds before she was leaning back, her smile still in place as she looked him over.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too."

A cough drew his attention and he looked over to see Leliana's amused eyes and Josephine's wide ones.

Suddenly he remembered where he was, where they all were, and turned his head to see more than a few people staring at them.

He could practically see his plans for discretion in their relationship burn to cinders, and he desperately groped for something, anything, to say that might help the situation.

And then he saw the smiles, and the whispers as people went back to whatever it was they needed to be doing and wondered if perhaps it wasn't quite as bad as he had thought it might be.

He hated knowing there would be gossip, but there were worse things to endure, like not kissing her at all, ever.

He heard words being said to him and focused back on the woman in his arms. She was saying that she needed to take care of her horse and her things and that she would meet all the Advisors in the war room in just a little while, and then she was offering greetings and goodbyes to the women beside him before squeezing his hands and moving away.

He watched her head to the stables, her gait as easy as when she had left, and he couldn't help smiling at it.

It was different, but a good different.

He hoped it never went back to the same again.


	34. Nicknames

Nell hummed in contentment and stretched against the man she was currently sprawled over, her back arching a bit as he ran a hand down her spine and then back up again, the tips of his fingers tickling her sweat cooled skin.

It was rare that they stayed awake long enough to simply enjoy the silence after tumbling into bed with each other, considering they were usually both exhausted by the time they managed to make it to bed at all, but after her having been gone for nearly two months neither was in much of a hurry to end the homecoming. Especially when it had involved waking him up in such an entertaining way.

"I was thinking about something while I was gone," she stated into the skin of his chest before turning her head enough to see the bottom of his face, and the way his lips tilted slightly at her words. "Oh?"

"Mmhmm. I was wondering if we should have nicknames for each other."

She felt his chest rumble in a laugh and his hand moved from her back to her hair, twirling one of the short pieces through his fingers. "Really?"

"Sure. That's what people do isn't it? I remember one couple in my parent's clan who called each other Snoogums and Dearest"

"Please don't tell me you want to call me Snoogums."

"So Dearest is alright?"

"No."

She lifted her hand from where it rested against the bed and trailed it over his side. "I could call you Cully-Wully like Sera does."

She felt his fingers still in her hair while his breath clogged in his throat, causing him to wheeze. When he finally spoke his voice was filled with disbelief. "She does not call me that."

She smiled, watching his mouth twist with his words before leaning down to nip at his collar bone. "Oh, I promise you she does."

"Maker's breath." The hand not in her hair came up to rub over his face. "That might be the worst thing I've ever heard."

She couldn't help laughing, the sound lacing through her words. "It's kind of adorable."

He simply groaned in response.

"Fine, no Cully-Wully." She fell silent for a moment as she thought then poked at his ribs. "You're supposed to be helping me."

"My dear?"

Hearing the phrase that Vivienne loved to drawl at her in her oversweet tone before pointing out yet another thing she thought Nell was doing wrong caused her to scowl. "Don't even think about it," she started, annoyance clear in her tone, as she folded her arms over his chest and pushed up to glare at him. When she was greeted with a smugly amused grin she stopped. "Oh, ha ha. Joke."

He laughed as he dropped his hand from her hair and his palm smoothed over her shoulder blade and down to her waist. "I thought it was funny. You already call me your lion to everyone else, what's wrong with that?"

"Call you lion all the time? To your face?" She tilted her head to study him, all golds and shadows in the dying light of the hearth fire. "No… no that would be weird."

He gave her a skeptical look, and deadpanned his response. "Yes, it's much less odd for you to have a nickname for me that you use when talking to other people, and that they then use when speaking to me."

She pushed herself further up him and pressed a quick peck to his lips. "See, you get it."

"Of course I do…" He rolled his eyes and pulled her back to him for a longer kiss. "I can call you magey-poo."

She snorted out a laugh at the phrase and shook her head. "Creators, no."

"Sparkle fingers."

"No."

"Lovely magic flower?"

"What? Ew."

"My beautiful bundle of death and fire?"

"Where are you even getting these from?"

He chuckled at the face she sent him and then brought her down for another kiss. "How about this. I'll call you Nell, and you'll call me Cullen."

"Cullen-Wullen."

"No."

They smiled at each other for a moment before she spoke again. "Cullen and Nell aren't very entertaining."

His hand sought hers out, their fingers tangling before he brought them up to ghost his lips over the back of her palm. "We can entertain ourselves in other ways."

She sent him a look of mock uncertainty and lowered her chin to her arm. "If you really think so…"

"Oh I do, my glittering elven star."

She scrunched her eyes shut and groaned before letting herself laugh. "Fine, fine. Cullen and Nell. It does have a certain ring to it."

"I think so."

She let herself slide into the space at his side, snuggling closer when his arm fitted around her, and rested her head against his shoulder. Cullen and Nell. Yes, she had to admit, she liked it very much.


	35. He Would Never Hurt Her

**Just to be on the safe side, I'm putting a warning here that this chapter has mentions of abuse and torture and death. Nothing graphic, but I want to make sure no one is taken by surprise or triggered by anything****.**

* * *

><p>He could smell the death around him, even through the fuzzy light of his prison. He had thought he might have been use to it by know, but no. It never got easier to breathe, never faded from his mind even as he clinched his eyes shut and prayed that it would go away.<p>

Prayer was all he had left, everyone, everything else had been taken from him, leaving him a barely stitched together version of himself in a too small cage. He prayed for it to be over, for someone to find him, for the Maker to take him to his side.

Even death was not allowed.

No, instead he was besieged while the Maker still held his gaze away, and so he suffered. He cried out to empty halls as the demons moved over and around him. He clutched his fingers into the cold stone of the floor until they bled while whispers of temptation and promises of release were echoed quietly in his head.

Give in. Give us what we want.

It was all too much. How long could he hope to hold out against them? He said the chant, over and over, until his tongue felt numb in his mouth and his voice was a harsh rasp that burned with each word, and then he pleaded, the words silent from too much use.

He had lost track of days, weeks, maybe months, by the time he realized there was a group in front of him that was no trick of the demons that plagued him. They wanted to save the tower, wanted to save the mages, as if such monsters could be saved.

They did not know, did not see the depravities that the mages had released on his brothers, on him. He could still feel their hands on him, icy echoes of temptations that still seared his brain and heated wounds that had caused him to be sick more than once from the overwhelming pain.

He begged them to reconsider. Begged them to end the terrors that he had seen for too long. Mages couldn't be trusted, couldn't be people.

Couldn't be.

He was surprised when they agreed, the leader's blue eyes turning hard in her tattooed face as she promised him retribution, promised to let him help. He stuttered out a thank you to her even as part of his mind wondered why none of it seemed right.

He wasn't sure how they removed the walls of his cell, wasn't sure how they got him to his feet when they ached so much and tried to crumple beneath him, but they did.

They gave him a sword and shield and drew him up the stairs with them, and he went, his steps stumbling and a fever growing inside of him. He could help kill them, help rid the world of this plague. They couldn't be left to hurt others, couldn't be left to live as people, like nothing had happened, like they hadn't created so much pain and death.

They needed to die. Every last one.

The Harrowing chamber was full, mages and demons mulling together in some sort of ritual that should never be allowed.

He leaned against a wall, his arms aching from trying to hold his weapons aloft, and his eyes searching for his targets even as he heard the group's leader shouting at Uldred.

There was a group of mages huddling in the corner, fear clear on their faces. Not to be trusted. The words repeated themselves like a mantra in his head. The fear was a lie. They could all be abominations. They probably were.

He scanned them again, his gaze lingering on a rust colored head, moving down to a pair of turned away eyes that he couldn't quite see the color off. They belonged to a woman, an elf, and doubt bit at the back of his mind.

She shouldn't be here.

He knew her. Not like he knew the other mages of the tower, but he knew her, and he knew she shouldn't be in this place. This was wrong.

This was wrong.

Fighting broke out around him, and the doubts melted away as he raised his sword to join. This was righteous, this was right. These mages had fallen to demons and Templars could not suffer abominations to live.

He cut through them, systematic in his movements, remembering every jeer of his captivity, ever hurt, every invasion.

He froze when his sword raised itself over the elf from before, watched as fire licked at her fingers and then died as she froze as well, words half forming on her lips before one of her hands reached out towards him, imploring, confused, terrified. There was shouting around him, the people helping him telling him she was the last.

Kill her. Kill her.

He could not let the possibility of possession leave this room, couldn't hesitate, and so his sword slashed down, red splattering out across pale freckled skin. She crumpled before him, her eyes wide and lifeless, the purple of her irises dimming with death. It made his brain scream. He knew those eyes. He knew her. How? How?

She shouldn't have been here.

He was screaming, somehow giving voice to the wrongness even when he could feel his throat bleed with the effort to make sound.

She shouldn't have been here.

The world clouded around him, darkness sucking him in and up even as he fought against him. He could hear his name coming from far away, could feel warm fingers gliding over his sweat soaked skin and he fought against it.

Not more demons.

Just kill him. Please, just kill him.

When his eyes opened again he was in a bed, arms struggling weakly against something. Someone?

Words washed over him, the tone soothing as he tried to suck in breath, tried to remember what was going on, where he was. He could tell his gaze was frantic as he whipped his head around, the walls and furniture familiar as reality set back in. Skyhold. He was in Skyhold.

And the voice... He turned to see her as she pulled her hands back from him, words still falling from her mouth. He was safe. Everything was all right.

He stared at her, rust colored hair, eyes the color of berries, and skin that wasn't wet with blood.

Whole, alive.

He had killed her.

The thought repeated itself and he closed his eyes again with a groan, hands reaching out blindly to drag her to him so that he could bury his face against her, could feel the beating of her heart against his chest. Apologies tumbled from him until he was babbling, even as he tried to shake the image of her dead in the tower from his head. Her hands reached up, silencing his words before stroking over his back, his arms, his face.

He loved her, he would never hurt her, it was just a dream.

She said it over and over until it began to replace the haunting thoughts of death and he had started to relax.

She pulled back and reached for an edge of the discarded blanket to wipe the moisture from his face, and he was unsure anymore whether it was sweat or tears. His eyes ached with pressure at the attention, at the obvious caring behind it, and new fear set in. He should leave, leave her bed, leave her life. What if he hurt her? What if he forgot her? What if it all became too much?

A hand stopped him from rising, and she curled herself around him, fingers drawing lazy patterns over his chest even as she hooked her leg around his in a familiar gesture.

He let himself settle with her, exhausted even after being asleep.

He curled an arm tentatively around the slim body that was attached to his, her words from earlier repeating over and over in his mind.

He loved her, he would never hurt her, it was just a dream. He loved her.

He would never hurt her.

He wanted desperately to believe it.


	36. Hand Holding

"This is weird… Why is this weird?"

He glanced down to the woman at his side as she spoke. She was right, this was weird. He couldn't get his shoulders to relax, and the stiff immobility of them was causing an ache down the center of his back. He also didn't know what to do with his hands, when had he ever worried about what to do with his hands?

She had offered to join him on his patrol of the battlements, something new to do he supposed, not that he was complaining. After their talk, and other far more entertaining things, the day before he was hardly going to pass up the chance to get her alone again.

Not that he had any ulterior motive to wanting her alone; it was just nice to spend time with-

"Cullen?"

His thoughts broke off at the sound of her voice and he blinked at her. "What?"

She laughed and drew to a stop, her eyes assessing him a moment before her smile widened. "You're blushing."

"Am I?" Now that she mentioned it he could feel the telltale heat rising over his face.

Andraste preserve him, one would think he could handle being around her without blushing.

He took a deep breath and reached up to scrub at his neck. "You're right… this is far more awkward than I had planned."

"So you had something planned?" Her smile had taken on a decidedly amused edge and he felt his face heat even further.

"N-No! Of course not!" At her raised brow he plowed on. "Not that I haven't thought… I-I mean…" He trailed off and tugged at the back of his hair in frustration. "I'm very bad at this."

She laughed again, the too loud sound of it bouncing off the stone around them. As it faded she looked around then stepped closer to him. "I think I know what will help." She reached up to his shoulders and tugged him down until their lips met.

It did help, almost immediately, and his hands moved automatically to her jaw, tilting her head up so that he had better access to her. The feel of her mouth against his did something to settle the uncertainty in him, though he wasn't sure why.

As his hands dropped to smooth over her arms and settle at the small of her back he wondered if it was because she felt so right against him. He had held back from her for too long, knowing that he didn't have to now… It was almost too much to believe.

He pulled back from the kiss instead of deepening it, as part of him desperately wanted to, and let himself grin down at her even as she asked him if he felt better.

"I do. We should… continue the patrol."

"Of course, Commander."

He reached for her hand automatically, capturing her fingers in his before resuming their walking.

They were silent for several minutes as they made their way through another abandoned room, and he took the moment to mentally assess what they might use it for before walking out the other side and pulling the door shut behind them.

They had made it to a still slightly crumbled part of the battlements, the way blocked from continuing on, and stopped at the abrupt drop off that the tumbling rocks caused. It was where they were supposed to turn around and go back, and he started to say as much to her when she flexed her hand in his and distracted him completely.

"You know. I've never done this."

"Gone on patrol? That's a bit hard to believe seeing as I've seen you doing it."

He laughed under his breath and lifted their joined hands. "No, this."

She seemed genuinely confused by the statement, her lips tilting slightly as if she thought he was telling a joke. "Really?"

He shrugged and offered her a smile. "Not since I was a little boy being lead around by my mother or my sister. When would I have? Templar training doesn't really give time for casual strolls with sweethearts and since…." He shrugged again.

She stared at him a moment then gave a nod. "I guess that makes sense, but if this is your first time you really should get the full experience."

"The full experience?"

She nodded again and pulled her hand from his so that she could tug at his glove. "You know, I've been wondering about your hands since we met."

He watched her remove the leather and flexed his fingers uncertainly as they hit the air. "Have you?"

"Yes. I've wondered if they would be smooth or rough, or if they will be a little too pale since you always have them covered, but that not the point at the moment. The point is that you can't really know what it's like to hold someone's hand unless you do it skin to skin." She pushed the glove into his belt then slid her hand over his until they were palm to palm, her fingers laying flush against his before sliding to hook between them. He focused on the feel of it, the way her skin was warm against his and the way the callouses she had from her staff caught at the ones from his sword.

He wondered if it should be unpleasant, especially with how he could feel the hollow between their palms grow hot and start to verge on humid, but it wasn't. He rather thought he would enjoy doing it more often.

He tangled their fingers more tightly together and used the point of contact to tug her forward, his free arm wrapping at her waist and capturing their joined hands between them as he kissed her.

She smiled against his lips, chasing after him as he pulled away to kiss him again. When they did finally break apart she tilted her head and ran one of her linked fingers over his knuckle. "Well, what do you think?"

He didn't understand the question at first, his attention preoccupied with her mouth and the way he could just see the tip of her tongue as she bit it between her teeth a moment with her smile. "What do I think of what?"

She gave a dramatic roll of her eyes and chuckled at the question, her hand pulling his up so he could see them. "Of hand holding."

"Of course, right." He cleared his throat and willed himself not to blush again. "I-I like it."

Her smile widened and she dropped their hands so they hung beside them. "Good to know."

He started walking, tugging her along with him so that their hands stayed connected and their arms bumped against each other. "Maybe you can… I mean you should come with me on my patrol again some time."

He felt her fingers shift and folded them into his before leading her back through the door to the abandoned room. When they were enclosed within it she reached out with her free hand to wrap around his arm and lean into him. "I would very much like that."

He smiled down at her and took a moment to kiss the crown of her head.

So would he.


	37. I May Have Fallen

**I listened to the Greg Ellis Cullen phone thing, and one had him saying he had fallen, and oh dear goodness I couldn't help myself. This is really goofy and I amused myself too much. Don't hate me... I'll show myself out...**

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><p>She walked into the empty office and stopped short.<p>

The commander should have been there, if the officer she had just spoken to was telling the truth, but he was nowhere in sight.

Thinking he might be in the loft overhead, she took a few steps back to get a better view and pitched her voice up. "Cullen?"

She heard a noise, some muffled scrap from near the desk that had her tilted her head to peer around it.

What was going on?

She jerked back in surprise as the Commander's head popped into view.

"Inquisitor!" His voice was high pitched and slightly breathless, and he was suddenly standing, his hands fumbling at a bundle of papers that appeared to come with him from the floor. "W-was there… that is… yes?"

She watched him drop the scrolls onto his desk then chase after them when they rolled haphazardly away. "Are you alright?"

"Of course! Why, um, why wouldn't I be?" He wasn't looking at her, his eyes hard on the desk, but she could see the pink tinge his skin had taken and the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"Are you sick?"

He focused on her then, his eyes wide and confused. "What? No. No, of course not, why would you think that?"

Instead of answering she stepped closer, finally noticing the knocked over chair and scatter of books and papers. "What in the world…" She looked back up at him as she trailed off, and saw that his face had gone from pink to a bright, brilliant red and his hands were clinching a scroll so tightly that it was crumpled between his palms.

"I-I… that is… I might have… uh… I may have fallen down." The last was said in a rush and with his gaze firmly fixed on the wall behind her.

"You fell?"

"Not fell…" He dropped the crumpled missive and reached up a hand to rub at his neck, his face still blazing. "T-That wasn't the right word… tripped. I tripped."

She glanced around again then back to him as she pieced together what must have happened. When the mental image came to her a laugh burst out before she could stop it. When he only groaned and closed his eyes at the noise, more spilled out.

He groaned again and covered his face with his hands, his words muffled behind them when he spoke. "It's not funny."

She wanted to agree with him, really she did, but all she could see was the very large and very exaggerated fall that would have had to take place to cause the riot of a mess that was behind his desk.

So she laughed harder, her hand coming up to cover her mouth in some vain attempt to repress it.

It didn't help.

Before she knew it she was doubled over, tears leaking from her eyes, as Cullen stood looking on with the most bland expression she had ever seen on his face.

At least he wasn't blushing or stammering any more.

When she had finally quieted and managed to stand with at least a semblance of seriousness, he spoke again. "Better?"

"Yes."

"It wasn't that funny."

She highly doubted that, but she simply nodded in agreement.

"Was there a reason you were looking for me?"

She opened her mouth to reply then shut it again when her mind drew a blank. "You know… I don't remember."

He sighed and moved to straighten his chair. "Of course not."

"Want help picking things up?"

He looked over to her and the far too friendly grin she was wearing. "Are you going to laugh again?"

She thought about lying, but it had never really been her style. "Probably."

He rolled his eyes and moved to the papers. "Of course."

Repressing an already forming giggle, she moved to help him.


	38. I was Cold

**So very NSFW, and completely pointless. I'd run away now if I were you.**

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><p>It was still dark when she woke, the dim light of the moon casting a pale glow around everything. The fire in the hearth had apparently died out long ago, and the almost too cold air from the mountains had crept in from the open doors and settled within the room.<p>

She watched her breath puff out above her for a few moments before shifting deeper under the blankets and shooting a look to the fireplace that had a small spark catching and growing. It would take a little while for the heat of it to reach the bed, but she didn't dare start it larger. The hearth stones were still stained black from her last attempt at that.

She assumed that it was the cold that had woken her, and she turned to see if her bed companion had been similarly affected. She shouldn't have been surprised to see that he wasn't, the man had slept for months in a room with a hole in the roof after all, what was a little cold air?

No, Cullen was still sound asleep, the blanket thrown low over his hips, and his arms splayed out at his sides. His face was smooth and relaxed, a sign that no dreams were disturbing him, and she could just make out the faint sound of his breathing over the whistle of the wind outside.

She curled onto her side and watched him as she waited for the heat of the fire to reach them, her gaze skimming over his chest and the steady rise and fall of it. Unable to help herself, and still more cold than she liked, Nell scooted herself closer, dragging a blanket with her, until she was flush against his side, her arm propping under her so that she could look down at him. Cullen shifted in his sleep to make room for her, turning a bit to face her even as his arm fitting against her back.

Nell smiled at the movement, glad for the heat of his palm against her cool skin, and lifted her hand to slid it over his chest and down over the plan of muscles that covered his stomach. She let her fingers dip into his navel then trail down the line of hair that started below it.

Keeping her fingers above the blanket, she let them ghost over his cock, grinning at the way it twitched with the faint contact, then settle on his thigh and knead the muscles there.

Cullen shifted again and sighed, his fingers scratching lightly at her back as she leaned over and ran her lips across his collar bone and down over his skin to his stomach. Running her tongue over the ripple of muscles there, she tugged at the blanket until it slid off of him. She let her hand move back to his member, the tips of her fingers sliding over him in a circular pattern until he had started to harden and his hips had begun to strain upwards towards the too light contact she was making.

Smiling against his skin she moved her mouth down so that it could take over for her hand, her lips sliding along the underside of his length before she skimmed her teeth lightly over the tip. She felt his hand work against her back again as his hips arched towards her, a stuttered breath escaping him as she licked at the head, the salty taste of him spreading over her tongue.

It only took another run of her mouth down and then back up over his skin for his hand to move to her head, his fingers gripping and tangling in her hair as he started to wake.

Nell felt him tense, could tell he was trying to figure out if he was dreaming, even as his sleep deepened voice broke the silence. "Nell? What?" He stuttered out an in articulate word as she curled her tongue around him. "Maker… What…What are you doing?"

She smiled against the ridge at the head, her eyes shooting to the side to see his flushed face and darkened eyes. "Waking you up," she murmured, her breath ghosting over his skin, then took him into her mouth.

He let out a groan at the action, his hand fisting more tightly in her hair, his nails making sharp pinpricks against her scalp. She drew him further into her mouth then back out again, her tongue pressing firmly against him as it worked down and then back up.

When his hips bucked into her and his breath was seething through his teeth, she pulled away from him, her tongue darting out to give him one final pass as his hips continued to strain towards her.

"Are you awake yet?" The words were said on a chuckle as his hands moved to her shoulders and pulled her up and over him, his mouth seeking hers out even as he gave his reply.

"Yes."

She sank into the kiss, her tongue gliding along his bottom lip before dipping into his mouth to play with his, but she didn't let herself linger. Instead she pulled away, sliding herself back down until the hard length of him was fitted against the folds of her heat, the wetness of her making it easy to slide against him. "Good."

Nell braced her hands against his chest, her lips curling into a smile as she slid forward and then back, watching as his eyes slid closed, his lashes dark against the pinked ting of his cheeks. She let her own eyes close after that, focusing on the feel of him rubbing over the bundle of nerves above her core and the way his hands gripped into the flesh of her thighs.

She pressed herself more tightly against him, feeling the pressure building in her until it finally broke, pleasure washing from her center and out through her fingers and toes. He continued to rut against her as she arched back, a cry pulling from her lips, coaxing her through the aftershocks.

Even as the pleasure began to ebb she felt him shifting, his arms coming around her as he rose to sitting and pulling her into a kiss. His teeth bit at her bottom lip, tugging lightly before he drew her deeper.

Cullen's hands slid down her and back to her hips, lifting her easily and then pulling her back down so that she sank over him, his cock filling and stretching her and causing her to call out again. He froze for a few moments, his mouth skimming from hers to play at the pulse in her neck before sliding further down, his movements arching her back enough so that he could take one of her nipples into his mouth.

He bit lightly at the straining nub before circling it with his tongue. She wiggled against him, her hands moving to his shoulders as he continued to suck and toy at her breasts, causing her to clinch around him.

As if taking that as a cue, he began to move her, his hands gripping into her buttocks as he lifted her and brought her back down steadily. It was a slow rhythm, one that had the pleasure building back up at an almost crawling pace, and it went on for a long time, longer than she thought was even possible.

But finally, finally, it began to quicken and she circled her arms around his neck so that she could draw him into another kiss as she began to move herself.

Their movements became erratic as the speed picked up, and she heard him mutter against her mouth, some half formed curse or prayer, even as her pleasure crested around her. She felt him pump into her a few more times, his pace stuttered and words still tumbling from his lips, before he emptied himself into her.

They stayed locked together for several minutes, their cheeks resting against each other. Finally, she felt him tilt his face forward, his teeth skimming her shoulder and giving her a light bite. "Can I ask what that was for?" His voice was still slightly sleep roughened and a little breathless, but she could hear the smile in it, so she leaned back and grinned at him. "I couldn't sleep."

"Oh."

"And I was cold."

He laughed and let himself fall back onto the bed, pulling her with him so that she was sandwiched between his arms and his chest. She felt him move and then a blanket was pulled over her shoulders, cocooning them both in warmth.

"You know, you could have just curled into me, or made the fire bigger."

She pressed her lips to his chest then turned her head so she could snuggle closer to him. "I could have. This was better."

He made some non-committal sound and stroked a hand down her spine. "Yes. It was."


	39. He Deserved Better

She stared at Blackwall's down turned head for a long time. She had exhausted all of her questions for him long ago and the broken man in front of her had not offered his own words without prompting since the first moment she came to speak to him days ago.

And so they sat, as they had for days, both weighted under the silence of what had been done, and what was still being unsaid.

She had always liked the soldier in the cell across from where she sat, her back cold against the stone walls of the dungeon. They both detested idle chatter, and he had shown amazing trust in her even from the beginning, and he had always been willing to let her sit in his space, her thoughts her own, when she was having a bad day and hadn't wanted to talk about her feelings as so many of the others would want her to.

It made her heart ache to see him now, his form crumpled on the floor of his cell, his hands lightly gripping the bars, when only last week she had been helping him to paint a wooden griffin for the children of the refugee camp to play with.

She looked away from him, her hands coming up to rub over her face and then her hair as she heard murmurs of words coming from the front room. She scratched at her scalp as a soldier appeared in the corridor doorway and made his way to her.

"Inquisitor." He offered a half bow, his gaze not quit meeting her own, before he continued speaking. "You asked that we let you know when Commander Cullen arrived."

"Thank you." The words are pushed out tired and soft as she stood and took a step towards Blackwall, because she still can't think of him by any other name. "I'll be back. We'll… we'll figure this out."

He didn't answer her, and she didn't expect him to.

The guard led her out of the cell block and to a side room, holding open the door for her as she made a vain attempt to smooth her hands over the hair that she knew was wild from her constant tugging and scrubbing.

She heard Cullen thank the guard and dismiss him, waiting until the door shut with a soft click before pouncing on her.

His gloved hands came up to bracket her face, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks and under her eyes even as he looked her over. "Have you slept at all?"

It was so good to hear his voice, the rich timber of it laced with concern that had her wanting to lean into him, let him comfort her, and forget that one of her companions was sitting in a dank cell waiting for his death.

But she didn't have that luxury, not if she wanted to help him, so she reached up her hands to draw Cullen's away, squeezing them briefly before shaking her head and moving away. "No, but I can do that later."

He looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he took her cue and stepped to the table, rifling through a stack of papers before offering her one. "Leliana sent a report on Thom Rainier."

She stared blindly down at the parchment, the ink smearing as her eyes crossed. She reached up to rub them with her free hand. Cullen was right, she hadn't slept, not in days, and it was taking its toll on her.

She couldn't even keep her thoughts focused.

"Summarize it for me."

He did so, but she barely heard him. She knew that she asked questions, the right ones at the right times, but she didn't actually know what she was saying, or hear his response.

"Bl-Rainier has accepted his fate, but you don't have to. We have resources, and if he was released into our custody you could judge him for yourself." He brought his hand up to her shoulder with his words, his fingers flexing into her skin in some vain attempt at comfort.

She didn't look up from the report.

Instead, she stared harder at it in an attempt to focus her thoughts. "What would you do?"

"What he did to the men under his command was unacceptable," he spat out behind her, his hand tightening on her skin as he spoke, "he betrayed their trust, betrayed ours. I despise him for it."

"What right do you have to despise anyone for their past? Weren't you the one who once said that mages couldn't be seen as people? What things did you do to those under your watch that you would consider unacceptable now?"

Shit.

Her thoughts had been distracted and she hadn't meant to say that.

She sounded bitter to her own ears and she regretted the words even as they fell from her lips. Cullen stiffened behind her, his hand flexing a moment before dropping away. She turned to face him, her mouth opening and closing like a fish as she tried to think of something, anything, that might help her scramble after the words and take them back.

There wasn't anything.

She winced at the way his face shuttered, his hands going to the pommel of his sword and his back straightening as he stared at her with expressionless eyes. "Cullen…I…"

He gave a shake of his head, his voice even as he cut her off. "Point taken. What is it you would like us to do, Inquisitor?"

She wanted to apologize. She wanted to toss herself at him and beg his forgiveness. That had been unworthy of her, and of him and how far he had come. But she had a feeling he didn't want to hear it, so she looked away instead. "I want to get him out. Have him released to us."

She watch Cullen nod from the corner of her eye then move to gather the papers from the table. "We should head back to Skyhold then. We can go over our options with the others there. I'll meet you at the stables."

He left without another word, and she cursed herself again.

She left herself a few minutes later, blinking at the bright daylight of outside as she was immediately surrounded by Cassandra, Varric, and Dorian.

"Commander Cullen told us that you all would be heading to Skyhold. What would you have us do?" Cassandra's voice was business like enough to be comforting; if there had been anything off about Cullen's words to them she wasn't showing it.

Nell shook her head and rubbed at her face a moment before replying. "No… yes, actually. Stay here. Make sure they don't do anything with Blackwall until you hear from us. Don't let them kill him."

They all nodded at her words, though Dorian and Varric were both frowning at her and she had no doubt they wanted to say more. She shook her head again and waved them off even as she muttered something about being in touch then taking her leave.

She didn't want them asking questions that she was not adept at lying about, and she didn't want to say anything else to anyone that might be as harsh as what she had said to her commander.

Cullen was waiting for her at the stables, two horses already saddled, and she was surprised to see that her travel bag was hooked to one.

"I took the liberty of gathering your things." He stated as he pushed himself onto his horse, his face still carefully blank, and his gaze not meeting hers. "So we can leave straight away."

"Thank you."

He gave a nod in response, his attention turning to straightening his seat.

He barely waited for her to settle before turning his mount and heading away from the city.

They didn't speak for hours, the silence of their travel only interrupted by the sound of the horses' shoes striking the stone. Cullen rode just ahead of her and she found herself staring at the back of his head, watching as his hair turned a burnished gold in the setting light. She couldn't blame him for being angry, of course she couldn't, after all she knew that he struggled with his past. Of course she did. Hadn't he told her as much himself?

She was an idiot and she would be lucky if he ever even spoke to her again.

They stopped when it was too dark to see the road, both keeping up their silence as they unpacked their gear and began to roll out bedrolls.

On opposites sides of the fire pit he was making.

Wonderful.

Nell blew out a breath and began to pace as Cullen disappeared into the surrounding forest for fire wood. They couldn't just keep not talking. It wasn't going to help anything. She wanted to apologize, but she wasn't exactly sure how, and she was so tired, the thought of trying to form words that could express how sorry she was seemed almost impossible. She wasn't entirely sure she wouldn't say something extremely stupid and make everything worse.

It was a long time before he reappeared, and she wondered if she should have offered him one of her wisps to help light his way to make things easier, but she hadn't and so she supposed it was just another thing she had messed up.

"Before you interrupted me earlier I was going to say that while I despised Rainier for what he had done I also had great respect for the fact that when he had the chance to shake off his past he owned up to it."

She blinked at the words, her gaze moving to watch him kneel and begin to set the fire wood, his voice carrying back and over his shoulder to her.

"He has fought for us, and for the Wardens, and he has been nothing but a steadfast ally since joining the Inquisition. I can't help but respect that."

Unsure of how to respond, Nell simply stayed quiet, her fingers tightening into her palms.

"You were right when you said that I had no right to judge someone by their past. I don't, but I do know what it is like to want to make up for that past, and I think… I think that is what Rainier was trying to do."

Her hands worried together a moment before she stood to make her way over to him, crouching at his side and waving a hand at the pile of wood sparking a fire into life. "I think you're right. I want him to have the chance to continue to do so…. Cullen-"

"It was Serah Hawke that told you about me not thinking mages should be people. I said it to her once, back when she had first come to Kirkwall, I hadn't been there long myself." He wasn't looking at her, his eyes fixed on the fire as it grew. "I meant it at the time. Like I've said before, I'm not proud of who I was back then, but I won't pretend it didn't happen."

She stared at his profile, the orange of the fire growing and flickering over his skin. "She mentioned it in the context that she could tell how different you seemed now. She was complimenting you and I shouldn't have... Cullen, who you were back then, it doesn't matter."

He gave a laugh that was completely without humor and turned to root out a few pieces of bread and dried meat from his pack. "Of course it does. I know the kind of man I am and the kind I was, I don't need anyone to try and make it something it's not," he stated as he handed her part of the rations. "Eat and then we need to try and get some sleep."

They fell back into silence, and she tried to think of different ways that she could breach the gulf that seemed to have formed between them. It had to be her, didn't it? It was her fault it was there, but she couldn't think of what to say. She had never had to diffuse anything like this before. Keeper Deshanna had taught her how to hold her tongue so she didn't put someone's back up, but she had always been terrible at that lesson, and she didn't think. Just like she hadn't been thinking today.

She hadn't been thinking, story of her life.

Giving up on spanning the silence tonight, she instead crawled onto her bedroll, her back turning towards the fire and blonde man that sat beside it. She listened as he moved around the small camp, her mind refusing to rest, between Blackwall and Cullen she doubted it ever would, not that she wasn't use to it by now. It had been days since she had slept more than a handful of time and she was very sure it wasn't going to be stopping soon.

So instead she let her mind wander, her thoughts turning to Blackwall and how they might be able to convince the Orlesians to give him into their custody, and what she might do after that. She wasn't going to kill him, of course she wasn't, and she very much doubted that she would exile him. She would probably ask him to stay on, help with the Inquisition, and redeem himself.

He was her friend; she didn't turn her back on those easily.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt her blanket lift, and turned just enough to watch as Cullen slid onto the bedroll behind her. He had removed his armor and was clad only in a soft pair of breeches, and she held her breath as a bare arm slid around her, shifting her until she was facing him, her head against his shoulder.

She immediately curled into his warmth, her mind taking a moment to catch up, but when it did she stiffened against him. "What?"

"You need to sleep. You'll be no good on the ride tomorrow if you don't get some rest, and I would rather not have to carry you."

His fingers began to trail along her back in a steady rhythm that made her arch against his touch automatically. It would be so easy to just take it, to just let him comfort her and to fall into a sleep she desperately wanted in his arms.

But the gulf would still be there and simply ignoring it wouldn't make it go away.

He deserved better.

She pushed up against him, her elbow curling under her so that she could look down at his face. Her eyes traced the lines there, the ones around his eyes that crinkled when he smiled, and the ones on his forehead that did the same when he was annoyed. Neither was doing anything at the moment, his face carefully blank, and it bothered her yet again to see him so closed off.

She said the first thing that came to mind and tried not to think of how inadequate it sounded.

"I love you."

Cullen smiled slightly at that, the scared side of his lips tilting up even as he raised his free hand to curve around her cheek. "I know."

She leaned into the warmth of his palm and shut her eyes a moment before looking at him again. "I'm not very good at it."

"It's alright."

"No." She gave a shake of her head even as she disagreed and lifted a finger to trail over where his scar faded into his cheek. "It's not alright. I shouldn't have said that today. It doesn't matter how tired or distracted I was. You didn't deserve it."

"It wasn't untrue."

She gave another determined shake of her head and reached up to capture his hand in hers. "I'm going to say this once and probably never again because I am terrible at it so you need to listen. I know you went through a time that you weren't the type of person that you are very proud of, but it wasn't without reason and that just shows what kind of person you are now. You want to be better, you are better. You're the best man I know and I am lucky that you're willing to put up with me."

"Put up with you?" The words sounded quizzical, and his smile widened before he lifted his head and brushed his mouth over hers. "Is that what you think I do?"

"I think that you deserve someone who isn't going to throw your past in your face every time she gets upset."

He laughed for the second time that night, but this time is was much closer to sounding genuine. "Getting frustrated with you doesn't mean I want rid of you. I wouldn't trade you for anyone, no matter how agreeable they were."

"I hurt you."

"Yes." He nodded in agreement then kissed her again before pulling her back to his shoulder. "And now you've apologized."

She shifted against him, her hand coming up to curl into the skin of his chest. "It's just that easy?"

"Well, we might have a problem if you were doing it constantly, but I think we can work past once or twice. I'm sure I'll do something stupid at some point myself."

"I love you." She couldn't help saying it again, no matter that she had trouble saying it even once sometimes. She didn't think it had actually come out of her mouth since she had first admitted it to him now that she thought about it.

He curled his arm around her his hand settling on her waist as the other came up to grip hers where it rested on his chest. "I love you too."

"I'm worried about Blackwall."

"I know. I promise we won't lose him to Orlais."

"Do you really think we'll be able to get him back to Skyhold?"

She felt him press his lips to her head and smile against the hair there. "Yes, but not if you don't get some rest."

He was right of course, so she settled more fully against him and let her eyes fall closed. "Right. Right. Goodnight, Cullen."

"Goodnight, Nell."

When she woke the next morning all she could think was that it was the best sleep she had had in weeks.


	40. The Problem with Sharing a Bed

Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition forces, was terrible at sharing a bed.

The first night they slept together she woke up before dawn because he had splayed his arm and leg over the top of her, his elbow pressing a little too hard against her spine.

She had shoved him off and gone back to sleep.

The second night she woke up with half of herself off the bed, her hand brushing the floor while his foot pressed incessantly against her thigh in some unconscious attempt to give himself more room.

She had crawled over him and curled onto the side of the bed that was left open by his migration into her space.

From there she stopped trying to keep up with the various positions they woke up in. She knew there were more than a few gasping breathes when she had woken up more than once under him, his weight pressing her so far into the mattress that she couldn't move, and only using strategic sparks had been able to free her. She also knew that she had woken up on the floor once, and had spent more than a few minutes glaring at the back of his head and contemplating setting it on fire.

But she hadn't.

She had gotten back into bed, and if her feet were unnaturally cold enough to startle him awake when she pressed them against him, well, it was his own fault really.

He apologized any time he knew about it. Like when he woke to her cursing, her head pinned under his chest, and her legs kicking his, but well, it didn't stop him sleeping on her hand so long the next night that it took almost an hour for her to get the feeling back to it when they woke the next morning.

Eventually it got better… sort of… in a way. He started keeping an arm banded around her when he encroached on her side, so when she woke she wasn't on the floor but rather anchored above it, and when he rolled on top of her anymore it was only really from the waist down.

Though she would never understand how someone managed to turn sideways in a bed, their head disappeared over the side, without waking up from the uncomfortableness of it.

So there were slow changes that meant she didn't wake up nearly as often with bruises and aches that had nothing to do with their activities before sleep took them.

And watching him, after she had woken to a now rare hand smacking into her face, his breath even and his expression easy, she figured it was probably worth it.

Not that she didn't heat his hand till he yelped awake just for old time's sake.


	41. Yes

"If I was an abomination, would you kill me?"

The question greeted him as he stepped into his office, and it took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust from the glare of the sun and focus on the figure by his desk.

Nell.

She was picking at one of the books that sat near the edge of his desk, her hands restless even as she seemed to keep her gaze trained on the window.

He shook his head, confused and unsure if he had heard her correctly. "What?"

"If I was an abomination, would you kill me?" Her back seemed to straighten as she repeated herself, her fingers stilling on the leather she had been worrying, though she didn't turn around.

He balked at the question. They had gotten into many conversations, _many arguments_, over the past months about the mages as allies and her belief that Templars weren't necessarily needed, but they hadn't ever…

"Don't ask me that." His voices sounded weak to his own ears and he hated how cowardly it seemed. It was different when they were talking about what ifs of people that he barely even knew, different when he thought of mages as a whole, which of course he knew would anger her to no end to hear him say.

_Mages are people, individual people, with strengths and weaknesses and loves and fears, and they deserve better. They deserve a chance._

She had said it more than once.

"Why not?" Her shoulders were tense under her leather jacket, stiff in their movement as she canted her head slightly, the profile of her face coming into view. He opened his mouth to reply, but she didn't give him the chance, instead she dropped her hands to her sides and started to one of the side doors, her steps jerky. "Never mind, I think I know the answer."

Her hand closing around the handle and pulling the door open shook him from his stupor and had him striding towards her before reaching out almost without thought to catch her wrist before she could leave.

She couldn't ask that, not that, not in so vacant a way that it seemed almost casual and then simply walk away.

"No. I don't think you do. It's not so simple."

He felt her fingers curl into her palms and clench. She kept her face turned away, the dark russet of her hair all that he was allowed to see and it did little to tell him her thoughts. He resisted sighing even as he let go of her. "I don't want to talk about this."

He swiped his hand over his mouth and made to move around his desk. He could almost hear her turn around and he could feel her eyes on him. The room felt heavy as he started to move books from his chair to the desk, the air more stifling then it should be and the silence almost deafening.

"I do."

He looked back at her then, finally seeing her face and the stark seriousness that lined it. She looked older in that moment. Too old, and weighted by too much, like she was slowly being crushed under everything that had happened to her and everything that they knew was still coming.

He didn't like seeing her like that. She was never worried, never bothered; often angry and annoyed, yes, but it never lasted long, never left an impression of sticking with her. He remembered that Cassandra once compared it to being clawed by a sleeping cat that woke for that one moment and then immediately lost interest once it drew blood.

Now… now she was just a woman who looked like she had had entirely enough and she just wanted to know how it ended.

"Why?" It was the only response that he could think of.

"Because I need to know." The words were harsh, almost as if the sound of them was scrapping her throat, and she looked away again. "Because I'm not perfect, because there is always a chance that it could happen, and I have to know that someone will take care of it. Dorian and Solas… they would want to try and bring me back, waste time that could get others hurt, and I don't want that… I want…" She trailed off, her arms folding around her waist as she shifted from foot to foot in an oddly nervous gesture. "I would trust you to be able to handle it, so I need to know that you would."

He made himself walk to her, his hands coming up to touch her arms but stopping before he made contact, he dropped them back to his sides instead. She looked up at him, her expression shuttered and her eyes dark with something he couldn't quite read. He knew she wanted an answer, knew she deserved a promise that he would follow through with her request, but he hadn't been lying when he told her it wasn't simple.

He loved her.

Maker save him, he loved her more than he had even known it was possible to love someone. She had quickly, completely, become his world, the very thing his happiness hinged on. It wasn't that he needed her to survive, he wasn't so weak, but he had no delusions that he was a better person, a happier more open person with her than he had ever been before he had met her.

At the same time he knew, _he knew_, that he would never allow himself to be so selfish as to put any of that in front of the people he had promised, no, they had promised to protect.

No matter how much she meant to him he wouldn't sit idly by if she ever did become the thrall of a demon. He wouldn't let her hurt others. He wouldn't let her tear down what they had created.

And he wouldn't let her be the thing that she obviously feared becoming.

What would it do to her to think that she might turn against what she had accomplished, what would it do to him if he let her?

Besides, he had a duty, one he had promised to fulfill, and he would not turn against it, not even if it meant stopping her.

He lifted his hands again, this time moving past her arms so that he could curl his fingers against her cheeks and waited until she looked up at him.

He stared at her a few moments, his eyes tracing over her features and the lines of her vallaslin and the random spattering of freckles they cut through. She was so beautiful, he couldn't remember if he had ever told her that.

"Yes." The word hurt to say and he sounded strange to his own ears, like it was someone else who pushed the answer from his throat.

She opened her mouth to say something and he shook her head before leaning in to cover her lips with his own. He had given her his answer, he wouldn't change it, but he didn't want to discuss whatever details she would parse out to talk about.

He would rather focus on now, on the fact that she was warm, and whole, and alive, and _his_. For once in his life he wanted to not think about all the things that could and probably would go wrong, especially when they involved something like her becoming an abomination.

So he kissed her and hoped that she could want the same.


	42. Unfair

"You aren't thinking!"

His words were shouted into the silence that had been hanging around them for several minutes, their edges tinged with hours of frayed nerves and annoyingly repeated arguments.

"Surprise!" Nell shouted back, her hands shooting above her head for a moment before she turned back to her pack, her movements jerky as she shoved an undershirt into it. "Apparently that's a normal thing for me; you would think you were used to it by now."

He paced away from her then back so that he was hovering behind where she stood at the bed. When he spoke again it took all his effort to keep his voice level. "If you go and do this there is a good chance you will die."

She responded with a biting laugh before facing him again. "Oh yes, can't have that. Who would close all the rifts then?"

"That's not my issue with it and you know it."

"Then what is?"

Their voices were edging up again, and he would be damned if they got into another yelling match. Instead he reached up to grip her arms, fingers tightening just a little too much as he hauled her towards him and covered her mouth with his own.

Maker take her, he would show her instead.

Her mouth opened automatically and he angled his head so that he could take them both deeper.

Too bad she seemed to have other plans, ones that had her biting down on his tongue hard enough that he cursed before she jerked away from him.

"Unfair. Unfair!" She hissed out, eyes bright with anger before she turned to grab her bag and head for the stairs.

Her last words winged back at him as she disappeared. "I know my duty, Commander. Remember yours."


	43. I Want You to Have It

"Cullen!" His name was a breathless laugh that had him looking up from the paperwork on his desk to the open door in front of him and the Inquisitor that currently filled it. "I'm barricading us in," she continued even as she stepped further into the room and pushed the door shut behind her. She took a moment to bolt the lock before moving to the other doors and repeating the action, all the while ignoring his curious expression.

Blocking off the outside world effectively, Nell tumbled over the side of the couch in the corner, her back hitting and bouncing against the seat before she turned to her side so she could smile at him.

"Join me?"

He shook his head at the sight of her before standing and making his way over. He watched as she rolled back onto her back and stretched out, effectively blocking his ability to sit down, before bumping her arm that hung off the side with his knee. "Corypheus might be dead, but there is still work," he stated, a smile tugging at his lips when she rolled her eyes.

"Yes, but you don't care about that. You would much rather sit here with me because you think I'm pretty."

"Do I?"

"Well, if you'd rather I go get one of those soldiers that moon over you I can." She started to rise as she spoke then chuckled as he slid onto the cushions beside her head and grabbed her lifting shoulders, pushing until she was laying again, her head now against his thigh. "I think you'll do."

"Keep saying such sweet things and I might forget entirely to give you your present."

His brows rose even as he brushed at the hair on her forehead, his fingers tracing over the tattoo lines under it. "A present? That's positively romantic, Nell."

"I can be romantic."

The idea of her doing anything that even remotely resembled romantic made him laugh, and when she narrowed her eyes at the sound it only made it worse. She gave a huffed breath and made to sit up so he settled his arm across her chest to hold her in place even as he struggled to contain his amusement. "Wait-" He coughed into his free hand and then waved it over her face. "Wait. I'm sorry."

"Yes, I can tell, of you were any more sorry you'd laugh us off the couch," she deadpanned with such absolute blankness that he couldn't help laughing again.

"I am. Now, what was this about a present?"

She stared at him through narrowed eyes before shifting to reach her pocket and pull something from it. "You gave me a ring because you said that's what people do when they get married with your Chantry."

"I did." His hand moved back to her hair and she gave a pleased hum when he began combing his fingers through it. "Is there something wrong with it?"

It wasn't that he thought there was. Logically he knew there wasn't, she had told him as much, but he couldn't help his breath stopping until she blinked up at him, confusion settling over her face and in her voice. "What? No." She lifted her hand and his gaze shifted to the silver band that rested there. "Dagna and Harritt both do good work. What would be wrong with it?"

"I don't know. You're the one who brought it up." He reached out to tangle his hand with the one she had raised, the buzz of her mark teasing against his skin. "Was there a reason for that?"

"Yes, but I think there might be other things on my mind now." She pulled her hand free of his so that she could push herself up to sitting. Scooting closer to him she started pulling the buttons of his coat from their holes.

He reached up to still her movements, a smile working over his face. "I am always a fan of seduction, Nell, but I think I'd rather know about the ring at the moment."

"Are you sure?" She shifted so that she could toss her leg over him, straddling his lap, and lean in so that her mouth grazed over the pulse in his throat. "I've had some very interesting thoughts recently about your desk."

"Is that so?" He let himself grip her waist and pull her forward until their chests bumped and he could reach the side of her face that tilted up towards him and nip his teeth at the lobe of her ear. It would be easy to give into her, especially with the way her breath stuttered against his neck, but curiosity won out so he lifted his head and pushed her back. "I think I would still like to know what you were talking about with the ring."

She sighed and slumped back, her eyes dropping to where her hands had fallen between them, the ghost of a smile crossing her lips. "Fine. I figured I should give you one too, since Josie said they're supposed to be exchanged… So I have one for you."

"You got me a ring?" It was a strange repeat of what she had said to him just the week before, but he couldn't be bothered to focus on it.

"Yes, and no. I mean, you can't wear this one, it would be too small. I'm having Dagna and Harritt make you one to wear too… " She trailed off and her hands passed something back and forth between them. "This one is different, I was thinking about your coin and thought-" She blew out a breath and looked up and away. "I don't know, here." She practically threw the item she had been holding at him and focused back on her hands while he lifted it to study.

It was wooden ring, though not of any wood that he could identify off the top of his head. It was dark, near black, and looked unworn, the edges of it not yet gentled by wear. The outside of it was carved in intricate symbols that he supposed were words, but he didn't know the language.

"It's the tale of how Fen'Harel tricked the other gods and locked them away. I've told you it before." The words were soft, and he looked up to see her staring hard at the ring.

"You have."

He started to say something more, but she cut him off, her words rushing together as if she wanted to get them all out at once. "It's a Keeper's ring, a reminder for them that it's their job to protect the clan. I received it when I joined my clan and became the Keeper's First. I haven't ever worn it, obviously, it wouldn't be allowed until I was the Keeper myself, but…" She rolled her shoulders in a shrug and looked off to the side, her voice growing distant. "Well, that's not my life anymore."

Cullen flipped the ring over in his hands, fingers tracing over the markings. "Nell, I don't think-"

She gave a shake of her head, her face turning back to his so that she could send him a slightly strained smile. "I want you to have it."

"Are you sure?"

Her smile eased, tilting up more on one side, and she blew out a short huff of laughter. "Are you really going to make me say it?"

They stared at each other for a moment, her unspoken words settling around them. He could make her say them, he knew that, and knew that she would.

But she would be annoyed with it, and so it would come out joking and off hand, and she was blushing, the bright red of it staining her cheeks and making her tattoos stand out, and he was smart enough to pick up on the meaning himself anyway.

So he slid a hand behind her neck, tugging until their breath mingled together and their lips brushed when he spoke. "No."

She smiled against his mouth and shifted closer to him. "Good. Can we talk about the desk now?"

"I'm all ears."


	44. Do You Want to Feel It?

"Do you want to feel it?"

The question came on the heels of his own inquiry about what the mark on the Herald's hand felt like.

He hadn't actually meant to ask. He had simply been curious when she had taken her gloves off to itch at the skin of her palm, and his attention had been drawn down to the jagged green line that marred the skin there.

It didn't look as he had expected, not that he knew what he had been expecting. It was thin and ragged looking, like a wound from a poorly held dagger, and the faint green light from it was barely enough to light the skin around it.

He remembered Cassandra's claim that it seemed to grow and pulse when the Herald was near a rift, the light of it overwhelming, but it was hard to reconcile that description with the pitiful slash that he was faced with.

So he had been distracted and apparently couldn't help himself but to ask what it felt like.

He looked back up to her face at the question and the far too amused smile that played there. He thought perhaps he should say no and focus back on the recruits that were training around him, but he saw the challenge in her eyes, the almost knowing look that said she didn't think he would take up the offer, and knew that turning away wasn't an option.

He ignored the skitter of nerves down his back as some small part of his mind reminded him that the mark was magic and magic could not be trusted and sent the Elven woman a nod.

"Alright."

He lifted his hands to remove his own gloves and blinked then jerked back when she bypassed his arms and stepped closer to him instead, her hands reaching up to apparently cup his face.

She chuckled at the movement, her hands stilling, and tilted her head as her smile widened. "No need to be afraid, Commander. I won't let it eat you."

He scowled at the jest and made himself stand still as she rested her palms against his cheeks. The first thing he noticed was the cool dryness of her skin as it curved around his own, her fingers tickling at the rough stubble of his jaw as they curled in. Next he noticed how close she was standing, the edges of her armor brushing against his shins and the faintest feel of the air stirring around his chin with her breath as she looked up at him.

He felt the beginnings of a flush working its way up his neck so he forced himself to focus instead on the faint buzzing that he could feel under her left palm. It felt… well, he couldn't explain how it felt. Strange, yes, but not painful and not entirely unpleasant. He wasn't sure he could put it into words.

Finally she stepped back, her hands dropping from him, and making him suddenly realize that he had brought his own hand up to cup her marked one.

When had he done that?

Dropping his hand awkwardly to his side, he tried to think of a way to apologize for the fact that he had practically been holding her hand, but when he did speak again stuttered words of being sorry weren't what came out.

"Why, um, why wouldn't my hand have sufficed to feel it?"

She sent him a shrug as she pulled her gloves back, her gaze steady on his for a moment before she replied. "Because I wanted to touch your face. I've been wondering if you could possibly be real and now I know."

He could feel the bright heat engulf his face at her words, and he reached up to rub at his neck as he tried to formulate a reply.

"You're blushing, Commander."

He knew he was, he could feel it getting even worse, couldn't he? His hand stayed at his neck and he looked away from her with a nervous laugh. "Yes-um, well… I should… I should really get back to work."

"Of course. Let me know if you want to feel anything else on me, I'll be happy to oblige."

The sound of her laughter covered his own sputters as she turned to walk away.


	45. An Off Night

It just wasn't working.

It wasn't that they weren't in the mood, and it wasn't that they hadn't tried…

In fact they had been trying most of the night. First in the bed, then on the couch, then in increasingly interesting places and positions that ended with her gripping the ladder in her closet with Cullen perched behind her.

That hadn't worked either.

So they found themselves back in the bed, shoulders brushing, staring up at the ceiling while the silence pushed down around them.

Cullen spoke first, his voice tight with exasperation. "That's not, it's never-"

Nell tried to hold back the laugh, she did, but the whole night caught up with her at once and before she could stop herself a small sound escaped. She could practically feel him scowl at the noise.

"Are you laughing?"

He sounded so affronted at the idea that it became harder to hold in the noise and she could feel her shoulders shaking with the effort.

He shifted in the bed until he was leaning on his arm, his face set in a grim line as he studied her.

"This isn't funny, Tirnel."

Something about the way he said her proper name broke the dam she had tried so hard to put up and she quickly lifted her hands to cover her face as laughter bubbled out and into the room.

She heard him sigh near her ear as he dropped back onto his back, and looked over in time to see him cover his face with his arm. Still laughing, she shifted until her hands were pressed into his chest, her face still buried in their slightly sweaty warmth.

After taking a minute to draw in a deep breath, and a few more, she peeked up over her fingers at him. She could only see his chin and mouth, the thin line of it compressed enough that his scar was a too white mar against it. The sight made her huff out another laugh before pulling a hand free to scratch at the stubble of his chin.

"Cullen."

He ignored her at first, the only sign that he had heard her being a barely noticeable tightening of his fingers into his palm. After a moment of no response she scratched at his chin again, her voice taking on an even more amused tone.

"Cullen."

It took a few seconds, but he finally looked at her, his arm raising just enough that she could see the glint of his eyes in the firelight.

"It's not a big deal."

It was his turn to laugh at that, a bitter sound that had her rolling her eyes and shifting further up his chest so that she could move his arm out of the way and bump her forehead to his.

"I still enjoyed it."

He looked skeptical, not that she could blame him, but it wasn't untrue and when she smiled at him he reluctantly smiled back.

"Good to know, but it still isn't funny."

"It's a little funny. I mean, we tried to have sex on a ladder."

He blinked up at her as his smile widened slightly, an amused breath of laughter hitting her face before he tilted his head up to kiss her. "Yes we did."

Seeing him relax, she let herself slid to his side, her head tucking onto his shoulder as she felt his arms hook around her. "Did we really think that would work?"

"Apparently."

She bit back a yawn and snuggled further into him. "Why don't we try again in the morning. I'm sure you can find an interesting way to wake me up."

She heard him laugh again before he pressed a kiss to her head. "You hate being woken up."

"Tomorrow I can make an exception."


	46. Perfect

**Prompt: Cullen plans a surprise birthday party for the Inquisitor.**

* * *

><p>"She's going to hate this."<p>

"Nonsense, Commander. I think she will like it quite a bit."

Cullen might have believed it, Dorian was her best friend after all, but he didn't trust the amused smile that was currently stretching the mage's face.

He had been talked, somehow, into helping to plan a party for the Inquisitor's Name-Day. He still wasn't sure how it happened, but here he was, cloth streamers in hand, helping Dorian decorate the Great Hall.

It just seemed like too much, too many decorations, too many people, too much fuss. Nell had never been one for such things, and he didn't understand why everyone thought they were a good idea now.

Dorian seemed to pick up on his uncertainty and slapped a hand onto his shoulder. "Don't you trust me, Commander?"

Not at all. Not about this, but he smiled and tried not to groan when Sera bounded by and dumped an armful of silk into his arms.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Josephine mentioned something about bows on the chairs, but she didn't like mine." The elf shrugged with her words and disappeared down a side passage.

Seeing no help coming from either Dorian, who seemed busy with the streamers, or anyone else, he turned to the chairs along the nearest table and balked when he saw that the bows that were already there were tied to resemble… well… body parts that were best left in private.

Heaving a sigh he moved to a bare chair and wrapped one of the bright blue silk bands around it. He toyed with it for several minutes before finally stepping back to survey the limp hang of cloth.

He couldn't do this. This wasn't… This was a terrible idea.

With a vague mumble at the others he hurried towards Solas' office and beyond that to the quiet comfort of his tower.

He didn't return till hours later, waiting until the sun had set and there couldn't possibly be more for him to do, before appearing at the edge of the Great Hall to survey the damage.

It looked like Orlais had thrown up all over everything, including the vast number of people who milled around it.

She was going to hate this. How did no one realize that?

Giving a shake of his head he moved into the room then out of the main doors, his gaze seeking out the telltale auburn of Nell's hair. Seeing it, he wasted no time in descending the steps to the main yard and moving to her side.

"Inquisitor."

She glanced away from the guard she was talking to and smiled up at him quizzically. "Cullen, can I help you?"

He nodded and reached out to grip her elbow, waiting until the guard bowed and moved away before speaking again. "You can. I need to speak with you, in my office, right now."

She gave a short laugh and nodded to the steps that lead up into the Hold. "Can it wait, Leliana needed to speak with me."

He automatically shook his head, his grip tightening a bit. "No. Do you trust me?"

Her reply was instant, her smile widening. "Of course."

He slid his hand to hers, their fingers intertwining, before pulling her after him. He led her up the back way to his tower, a silent prayer on each breath that they wouldn't be stopped, and tugged her through the door before slamming it shut behind them.

Taking a moment to slide the lock into place he steeled himself before turning to look at her.

She was staring at the office.

He made a restless gesture and stepped slightly past her to wave vaguely around them.

"Happy… um… Happy Name-Day."

"You did this for me?"

He couldn't quite make out her tone and he made himself look around, worried that he had misjudged.

The room was filled with candle light, the various candles he could find adorning every available space. He had also cleaned off the desk, a feat in and of itself, and placed a chess set there. He had thought she might like to play it; she was getting better after all.

"Yes. I- I have wine, and some things to eat. I thought… I thought you might enjoy some quiet."

He didn't relax until she turned to look at him, a wide grin on her face. "It's perfect."

The worry in his gut left him all in a rush, his muscles relaxing even as she moved back to him, her arms sliding around his waist. "So tell me, how bad is the Great Hall?"

The question made him laugh; of course she would know what was going on. Nothing slipped past her. "There are streamers and bows, and I am very sure half the population of Val Royeaux."

She made a sound that he couldn't quit decide was amusement or annoyance and pulled away to go and sit at the desk, her hands coming up to dance over her pieces. "This is better," she remarked, a look of concentration crossing her face as he went to join her.

Settling into his chair he smiled and focused on his own pieces. "I agree."


	47. When This is Over

**Prompt: Pillow talk of hopeful future things**

* * *

><p>"Do you ever think about what you want to do when all this is over?"<p>

It took him a minute to process her question, his brain fuzzy with the beginnings of a nap that he didn't have time for but couldn't quite fight. She had talked him onto the couch, something she was becoming much too good at, and it had taken mere minutes for him to settle into the corner, his legs stretched across it, with her tucked against him.

He hummed out a response, his eyes not opening, and gave a squeeze to her waist.

"Falling asleep on me?"

"Under you seems more appropriate." His words were slurred and when she laughed lightly at them he forced an eye open in time to watch her mark her book and set it to the floor.

"Alright. Falling asleep under me?"

"Yes." He shut his eye again and pulled her tighter to his chest.

"I can't believe that you would rather sleep then talk about the future."

"And I can't believe you wouldn't rather sleep."

He knew she was smiling at that, a slow easy grin. "If and when this ends," he started, his voice growing more firm as he pushed napping to the back of his mind, "I don't care what I do, as long as you're there."

There was a pause before he felt her shifting, turning until she could fold her arms against his chest and rest her chin on them. When she didn't say anything he opened an eye again. She was staring up at him, her expression clearly amused. "Yes?"

"You don't care?"

He gave a shake of his head and closed his eye.

"So, if I wanted to go back to living with the Dalish you would go with me."

"Would I need to get the face tattoos? I don't know if I could pull them off as well as your people do."

He felt her breath puff against his chin at her laugh. "No."

"Then yes."

She laughed again and after a moment he felt her fingers touch against his cheek and slide down to his chin. "And what if you want to go live in some city?"

He shook his head and reached blindly for her hand so he could pull it to his lips and brush a kiss over it. "You would never want to live in a place like that. The only reason you put up with people here is because you get to leave so often, and you have your hidey holes."

"Hidey holes?"

"Mmm-hmm." He kissed her hand again then settled it back against his cheek. "I think you would enjoy a cabin in some place like the Hinterlands more. Close enough to a village for supplies, but far enough away that you could go days without seeing a soul."

She curled her fingers lightly against his skin and he leaned in to the movement. "Would there be books?"

He nodded and slid his hand up then back down her back, his attention drifting again for a moment. "As many as you wanted, and all the nooks you could need to hide away and fall asleep in."

Another laugh hit his face. "And you of course."

He smiled and moved his hand up to toy with her hair. "As long as you want me."

She pushed up enough that she could brush a kiss along his jaw before settling back again, her hands curling under her head as she snuggled against him. "I think I'd like being a farmer."

"I can show you some tricks." He ruffled her hair before wrapping both arms around her waist. "That's a ways off though. Nap now."

From her lack of response, he assumed she was going along with the idea.


	48. A Kiss

He was teasing her, and she hated it.

He had stopped her in the hallway between the war room and Josephine's office, his hands firm as they settled over her waist and tugged her into the corner. She had gone willingly, content to lean against the hard plane of his armor as he pulled her closer, his breath a warm fan over her face.

But now, now he was hovering there, his lips occasionally hinting at a brush over hers as his gloved fingers traced small circles on the sides of her lower back.

His name was a breathless sigh as she pushed up onto her toes, mouth seeking his for firmer contact. He chuckled at her movement, his head lifting away from hers before she could make a connection, a smile forming that made her whine in frustration.

"Just let me…" His voice trailed off as his hands moved up and to her jaw, bracketing it and holding her still as he lowered towards her again. He kissed her then, but not how she had expected. He kissed her eyes, the curve of her cheek, the corner of her mouth, his lips light as a snowflake as they brushed over her skin and she rocked towards him again.

When his tongue darted out to smooth over the line of her jaw she tried to tilt her head so that she could capture it but he ignored her and bit at the tip of her chin instead.

"Close your eyes." The words were whispered as he moved his lips to hover over her again, and she temporarily forgot what he had asked as the intensity of his gaze locked with hers, the warm want in his eyes hard to look away from.

When she finally complied he ghosted his lips over hers, once, then again, his tea scented breath mingling with hers in the small space he kept between their mouths. It was in that moment that she realized he was trying to seduce her and she felt herself smile.

She was completely fine with that plan, she was, but it didn't stop her from whispering out a plea for him to kiss her as desire settled in her gut at another too soft brush of his lips.

She tightened her grip on the fur of his collar as his hands moved again, one curving around her skull and the other dropping to the small of her back to pull her closer. His tongue traced over her bottom lip, the tickle of it causing her smile to widen, before he dipped between her lips, and teased over hers even as he angled her head further back.

"Lovely." The compliment was said into her mouth, the sound of it getting lost as he finally, finally pressed their lips together with the pressure she wanted.

It started slow, the slide of tongues easy and unhurried as they explored each other, but it didn't take long for his grip to tighten in her hair and her hands to slide up and around his neck to try, somehow, to pull him closer.

She could feel hot air strike her cheek with his harsh breaths as she closed her lips around his tongue and gave it a light suck. His fingers pressed into her back, holding her flush to him as he pulled away long enough to groan her name before biting then tugging at her bottom lip.

It seemed to go on forever, the two wrapped in each other, the wet sounds of their lips and tongues meeting and parting filling the quiet air, before he finally pulled her away.

"I need to get back to work."

She gaped at him, pleasure still clouding her mind as she tried to understand what he was saying. "Now? Why now?"

He smoothed his thumb over her bottom lip, his eyes lit with humor. "Because the soldiers are waiting for my inspection. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of what I had in mind later."

It came to her then that this had probably been his plan the whole time. Seeing if he could get her hot and bothered before leaving her to the wilds of her imagination until they had time alone again.

"That's evil," she stuttered out, her fingers flexing in fur before falling away.

He smirked at the statement, he smirked. Cullen "I can't even tell you I like your company without stuttering" Rutherford smirked and let out a low laugh even as he leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead.

"Probably," he replied before moving around her and down the hall to Josephine's door.


End file.
